


The Sub Way

by unclejames



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Brat, Casual Sex, Doctors & Physicians, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal Conflict, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Mistaken Identity, Multi, Paddling, Public Blow Jobs, Public Claiming, Public Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Sexism, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Sub Drop, Worldbuilding, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 01:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13494154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unclejames/pseuds/unclejames
Summary: They use him on the subway.An exploration of a BDSM-oriented universe, through the eyes of Dave, a college freshman and submissive with a rebellious streak an inch wide and a bad habit of failing to see things directly in front of him.





	1. Drop

**Author's Note:**

> If you're just beginning this story, thanks for tuning in! If not, welcome back!
> 
> I'm a college student, so while I will try to update this as often as possible, new chapters will be uploaded sporadically. I hope you enjoy this story!

They use him on the subway.

Dave is heading home from his class’ presentation, book laden and absolutely exhausted. He had to stay up late last night to finish his presentation after his computer crashed and he lost all of his files. Luckily, he’d backed up some essentials, but not the presentation he’d prepared on dynamic bias in medical textbooks, so he’d had to stay up for most of the night to redo it. The only thing that saved him was the amazing properties of caffeine.

But now, he feels free to relax. The presentation was successful and his professor, a picky and dominant woman, had even given him a quick pat on the back. And, if everything went as well as he thought it did, this could mean an opportunity for an internship this summer in the city, which would keep him close to campus and, more importantly, close to his brothers.

The fraternity was really the only family he had. He’d been initiated during his first semester at college, nearly six months ago. They were the ones to provide support and purpose once he was forced from his childhood home. Once he’d started responding submissively his parents expected him to serve the family and, when he resisted, he was disowned. Now, Dave takes suppression pills to satisfy his urge to submit and serve dominant dynamics when it rise, although he must be careful about taking too many pills for too long a time. So, just like a birth control pill, he takes a placebo pill for the last week of every month. By some stroke of misfortune, this presentation had fallen on the thirty first of the month, meaning it was his last day on placebo, as well as the most difficult. He could feel an itch to be soothed just under his skin, so he silently prayed that the subway would move just a little faster today so he could get in a cold shower before he got the sweats.

_Brrrring!_

It’s a text message from his big, Robert, an assigned mentor from his fraternity who is also his closest friend.

_You coming over soon?_

_Shit_ , Dave thinks. He’d promised Robert he would come over and help bake sweets for their next fundraiser today. He quickly types back a reply.

_Yep! I’ll be there in 20, unless the subway moves any slower._

The subway stops briefly, letting in a group of three rowdy college aged dominants. Dave’s reading abilities are dampened by the pills, but a vanilla with one eye could read them from a mile away. They’re aggressive with one another, and two of them have the thin leather bracelet that indicate a submissive or versatile out there in the world is wearing their collar. Dave snorts at their obnoxiously loud behavior and turns away to read the texts from Robert.

_Well hurry up! It’s boring here without you._

_And if it’ll make you get here any faster, Logan is here ;)_

Dave shudders. Logan is the president of the fraternity and Robert has been teasing him non stop after he drunkenly confessed that he thinks Logan is ‘friggin’ cute as fuck.’ Robert wants him to flirt, but Dave suspects it’s because he wants Logan to get out more, not because he actually thinks he’s a good match. Not to mention that no one in the fraternity knows Dave is a submissive. His pills make him read as a vanilla, even during placebo week, so he lives as one. And Logan is a dominant, through and through. A big, grouchy asshole like him will want a proper, meek submissive, and Dave is as far from that as can be.

He starts to type up his response:

 _I think I’ll take my ti_ —

The subway lurches around a corner and Dave stumbles back, nearly dropping his phone. He catches himself with one of the overhead hand holds but takes one step back too far, knocking into one of the dominants.

“Are you fucking kidding me, ‘nilla?” She snarls. Dave feels the hair on the back of his neck standing up as he turns to face her, apology catching on his lips. She must have been holding one of those trendy new drinks from Starbucks, because her white and cream blouse is now stained a garish shade of purple and pink, topped off with whipped cream.

“I—,” he starts, but one of the other dominants, a stocky man wearing ripped jeans, steps forward, jabbing a finger at his chest.

“Don’t even start, vanilla,” he says lowly. He’s has a scruffy face and dark hair and at least 40 pounds on Dave, so he moves to step out of range.

“This was my favorite shirt! And my sub’s too!” The first dominant groans.

“I, I’m so sorry,” Dave stammers out. Could this day get any worse? The third dominant, a crafty looking man with a tattoo around his wrist instead of a bracelet, peers at him carefully. Dave gulps, and moves to back away: tattooed dominants usually tattooed their submissives. It was a common practice for doms and subs with a ‘slave’ aspect relationship.

“Tricia, wasn’t this shirt given to you on your anniversary by your sub?” The tattooed dom asks.

“Yes, it was!”

“So would you say that it has value to you?” He asks.

“Well, of course I would, you ass, what are—,” her mouth snaps shut and she looks at Dave with sudden interest. The stocky dom turns his gaze to Dave as well, with a certain curiosity in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I just– I just wasn’t paying attention and, I– I mean,” Dave continues to stammer as the dominants approach him, cornering him at one end of the subway car. He’s suddenly very, very aware that nobody else on the car is paying attention to them: he’s on his own. “I’m just a student, so I don’t have m-money, but there must be some way for me to pay you back, but I—“

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sub?” The shifty one asks. “To give us something in return for our trouble and learn your lesson?”

“I—,” Dave tries to talk but the words get stuck in his throat. He has a single moment of pure clarity and he thinks to himself:

_You’re being played like a fiddle._

“Knew it,” The shifty one snarls, and then sprays him in the face with something slimy, and then they close in.

It’s strange, this feeling. Dave knows he’s been sprayed with an extract from dominant saliva, and that his body, already teetering during placebo week, is now being thrown into subspace. And, with the addition of the saliva, he’ll be unable to resist their dominant allure, his body craving the pain and relief that a dominant can bring. All this he knows, and yet he’s unable to stop them. His limbs, shaky and weak, are malleable in their assertive hands.

“Please,” he manages to gasp as they sit him down in one of the seats between poles, yanking his bag from him. The woman reaches into her purse and pulls out two pairs of padded handcuffs and, hormone drunk as he is, Dave whimpers.

“Oh don’t worry, honey, you’ll still be able to make us feel good,” she laughs. As she grasps one of his wrists to cuff it to the pole beside him, the stocky dominant stoops down and grasps his head with his huge hands, guiding their mouths together. It’s sloppy and wet, and weird, and Dave suddenly realizes that this is his first kiss. The dominant feeds his tongue into his mouth, slips it in and out leisurely while the female dominant secures his other wrist to the other side. Dave can barely make out the world around him, his thoughts hazy and insignificant while the dominant counts his teeth with his tongue. His body and mind, naturally inclined to please, whispers: _serve_. He manages to capture the thought, and leans into the kiss, sucking on the tongue in his mouth.

The bite stings and Dave jumps, breaking the kiss for a second. The shifty dominant has unbuttoned his dress shirt and now gnaws delicately on the meat of his shoulder. The female dominant, on his other side, strokes a long nailed hand over his chest and lightly scrapes against his nipple, making him shiver. His eyes drift to the female dominant’s bag and he wonders if she has any other interesting items hidden within. Before he can ask, the stocky dominant lets out a throaty growl and settles in his lap, a significant weight dropped onto him before his mouth is reclaimed. This time, he’s much less gentle. He’s all teeth now, biting hardly at his lips, briefly lowering to nip at his chin and suck at his neck, surely leaving countless love bites. Dave can’t hold back a yell when he bites his lip _hard_ and there’s a gush of coppery warmth in his mouth. The man responds by licking into his mouth, taking it all away and replacing it with his spit, fucking into his mouth with his tongue.

Dave is delirious, half panicked from being attacked so publicly, half overstimulated from all the attention the dominants are showing him, constantly pulled into a state of heady arousal by the skin to skin contact and fluid exchange. On the edges of his awareness, he can hear a murmur from the other passengers, commenting:

_Look at him, look at what a bad boy he must be do have three doms controlling him._

_Fuck, wish I could collar him, I’d take him everywhere, always keep him open._

_Mommy, what are they doing?_

_That man is a submissive, sweetie, and he did something wrong so now his dominants are going to punish him so he feels better inside._

_Like when you wiped away daddy’s guilt when he forgot my birthday cake at home?_

_Yes, just like that sweetie._

And Dave is drinking it up. He wronged these dominants, and he needs to be punished to feel good again. But they’re not really punishing him, he suddenly realizes: just stimulating him.

“Please, please,” he gasps, pulling back from the stocky dominant. “I’m sorry, I’m, I need—”

“Punishment, maybe some good pain up in here?” the shifty dominant slides up his body, mouthing at his jawline while his fingers wander from his navel to his nipple. “Think you would like _that_?” he says, punctuating the word with a sharp tug on his nipple that makes him yelp.

_Mommy, how do you know that they’re his dominants?_

_Well, they all have bracelets do you see them?_

“What did you do wrong?” the stocky dominant asks while the first one, the woman, roots around in her bag.

“I spilled her coffee, I wasn’t looking around and, I’m just so clumsy this time of the month—” Dave babbles, trailing off when the woman finally finds what she was looking for: a small paddle, no longer than her hand. It was bright red on one side and green on the other, it must’ve been some kind of novelty holiday toy.

“You like the look of that?” the shifty dominant murmurs in his ear, warm breath against his face.

If the hardening of his cock is any measure, Dave is delighted by it.

“Eyes on me, slut,” the woman says, easily butting in while the other dominants take her sides: she’s clearly in charge now. “You ruined my favorite shirt, and this is how you’re gonna earn your forgiveness, so pay attention.” Dave nods his head vigorously. Her eyes, hooded and dark, narrow considerably and one of her hands darts up to grasp him by the jaw. Her nails, manicured, dig into his skin and the sharp sting has tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yes, yes!” Dave gasps.

_Smack!_

Dave doesn’t feel it for a moment, but then a deep pain spreads against the side of his face opposite her hand.

“Yes, what, slut?”

“Whoa, Trish, don’t you think you’re—” the stocky dominant starts, hands raised placatingly.

“Shut up, Nick. He’s gagging for it,” the shifty dominant interrupts.

_Smack!_

The other side of his face blooms with pain and Dave sobs.

“Yes, what?” the woman asks again.

“Yes, mistress!” Dave says, fighting the urge to pull away from her hands. She smiles, cruelly beautiful with teeth just barely stained by coffee. The shifty dominant sits next to Dave, grabbing him by the back of his neck while the woman gets down to her knees between his spread legs. Her hands, deceptively smooth, pull his shirt wide apart and she pushes at his tummy, the thin layer of fat that makes it just a little squishy.

“This your first time taking a little beating, kid?” the stocky dominant asks from where he’s standing, back a couple of feet. He’s pressing a single, humongous hand against his crotch.

Dave can’t answer because the shift dominant chooses that moment to suck his earlobe into his mouth, rolling the soft flesh between his teeth. His hand, looped around Dave’s shoulders, presses into the side of his jaw while he grits his teeth.

“I think he can take… 20 smacks,” the woman says, trailing the paddle delicately over Dave’s clothed cock and he trembles while goosebumps form all of his body. Dave’s not even sure he can take five: he’s never been punished or played with a dominant in any way. But there’s a certain high to this, to serving these people to apologize, and it intoxicates him enough that he remains silent.

_Mommy, if the dominants have bracelets, why doesn’t the submissive have one?_

_Submissives usually wear collars so they— oh, that’s odd._

_What is it?_

_Well, that man doesn’t have a collar on, which means they might not be his dominants._

“Fuck, do whatever you want Trish, just let him take a break so I can use his mouth,” the stocky dominant says, almost pleading.

_Whap!_

The paddle strikes his stomach and his nerves feel like they’ve been set aflame. And it’s good, it’s delicious, but tears continue to stream down his face relentlessly.

“Ah!” Dave cries out. The woman looks at him expectedly and he’s seen enough sex scenes in movies to know what she wants. “One.”

_Smack!_

This one lands higher up, and his ribs seem to reverberate, the pain spreading throughout his chest.

“Two!”

_Whap!_

This time she strikes even higher, hitting one of his spit-slick nipples and a sob hiccoughs out.

“Th—” he chokes when the shifty dominant pushes a finger into his mouth, prodding his tongue, but he’s careful not to bite down.

_Whap! Whap!_

“Fuh, fih,” Dave says, while the dominant pushes a second finger in, spreading his lips to rub at his teeth and smooth over his gums.

“Nick, he’s already dropping so you better get in there,” the woman says, sounding disappointed. It’s hard to make out: Dave’s ears are ringing, blood pounding, and he thinks he feels himself getting even harder.

_Mom, what are they doing? He looks so sad!_

_Honey, can you just sit still for a moment? I need to make a phone call._

Dave actually feels the cock before he sees it, so zoned out that he can’t make out the stocky dominant tipping his head back. The head of his cock, smooth and bulbous, slips against his lips. The shifty dominant grasps the corners of his mouth and presses his jaw down until his mouth is wide open, a hole waiting to be filled.

Dave’s never had a cock in his mouth, so he doesn’t really have any expectations. The head, slippery, glides over his tongue. It pushes, deeper, deeper, until it slides down into his throat and Dave’s entire body seizes when he gags, choking on this stranger’s dick. His hands, formerly loose in their cuffs, clenched into fists around the poles.

“Fuck!” the stocky dominant pulls out entirely and Dave gasps for air. “I don’t think this kid’s ever had a dick in his mouth.”

“Then just fuck his mouth and then we can get out of here. I’m getting antsy,” the woman says.

“What if he bites?”

“Dude, subs _never_ bite. They just don’t,” the shifty dominant laughs, leaning in to nibble at Dave’s ear again.

_Yes, I’d like to report something on the subway, there’s an unclaimed sub here that I think is being nonconsensually punished. Yes. Yes, we’ll be stopping at 34th street station next. Three doms and one sub, all college aged._

“Hold tight, kid,” the stocky dominant says and Dave’s grip tightened on the poles.

Those huge hands descended to grasp his hair like a handle and the cock is pressing against his face again. His lips part and he laves his tongue over the head of it, a pulse of precum spreading against the roof of his mouth. Once again, the man’s pulsing length pushes deeper and deeper until Dave feels like it might come out of his nose. This time, though, when Dave gags the dominant doesn’t stop. He just keeps on pushing while Dave’s throat flutters frantically, and then Dave’s nose is pushed against his pelvic. He smells like sweat, like aggression, and like sex.

_There’s two men and a woman, all very young, 20s at the oldest. Um, the woman is white with… the sub? Oh, he’s gotta be a college freshman, dark wavy hair, white dress shirt and gray pants. Yes, he’s white. Yes, please, they’re getting more aggressive, the sooner the better._

“Guh!” Dave groans around the cock in his mouth, losing air.

“Fuck, that’s good!” the stocky dominant says while the other two grunt in agreement. “These lips were made for sucking cock.”

His huge palms hold Dave’s head while he leisurely fucks into his mouth. Each stroke seems to push farther and stretch Dave’s mouth wider. Saliva pools against his gums, overflowing and trailing down his face with precum, covering his tear tracks. The hand in his hair yanks cruelly, pulling him down even further and feeding the thick cock into his throat. Dave squeaks, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.

“Shit, I’m gonna—”

Thick liquid shoots into his throat, quickly rising into his mouth when he gags, trying desperately to spit it up. These dominants, however, aren’t having it. The moment the cock slips out there are hands forcing his jaw shut and fingers pinching at his nose. Dave squirms, snorting and whimpering while he fought the urge to vomit, but somehow kept it down, swallowing finally.

“Good boy, good job,” the shifty dominant reassures him, but Dave is, Dave is—

“Officer, officer, I’m the one that made the call!”

“Shit, we gotta go, leave him, leave him, Trish! Just get out of the car, fucking _go_!”

“Hey, you three, where are you going?”

Sound seems to ricochet, pressing into Dave’s ears and then bouncing off walls back to his eyeballs.

What just happened? Where is he?

“Sir, I’m Officer Powelton, I got a call about your situation, and I—”

A woman’s face swims in front of him, reaching for his arms to unbuckle the cuffs. The first one releases and his hand falls limply while blood rushes back into it.

“Were those people your dominants?”

“No!” Dave yells, jumping at his own volume. “No they were, I just, I bumped into one and her coffee, it spilled, and I— oh my God, oh my God, fuck, they just, I just let them and I, fuck, fuck,” Dave babbles, feeling his eyes well up again while the officer releases his other wrist and carefully escorts him off of the car, helpfully carrying his kicked-aside bag.

“It’s gonna be fine, sir, two other officers are in pursuit of the suspects. You can come in and make a statement.” She was gentle, sitting him down on a bench. But she was too close, and too— what was it about her? What was it? “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, you can be sure of that.”

_Take care of me?_

“You’re a dominant,” Dave says. She raises an eyebrow and nods before turning to the side to speak into her radio.

Dave takes that moment to run. He can’t be here, trapped with this dominant. He needs to go away, he needs to run, he needs—

“Sir, wait, sir, where are you going!?”

Dave ignores her, leaping up the stairs out of the station into the night air. It’s cold, and refreshing against his wet skin. His bag, slung over his shoulder in his haste, seems back-breakingly heavy now and he staggers to the closest alley, flattening himself against the wall behind a dumpster. Officer Powelton rushes past and he sighs in relief. Sinking against the wall, he takes stock of his appearance: his shirt is unbuttoned and wet in some places, his chest is littered with love bites, and his stomach is red and pink from the paddle. In short, he looks thoroughly ravished.

He buttons up his shirt and considers his options. Where should he go now? His dorm is nearly 15 blocks away, more than a long enough distance to be targeted by dominants. Where is he going to go?

_Brrrrring!_

It’s a text from Robert.

_Hey, where are you? These cookies aren’t gonna bake themselves, you know!_

Robert lives in the fraternity house, will he be safe there? Several of the brothers are dominants, some of them entirely single. The last thing Dave wants to do is start a frenzy. But where else can he go?

_The back door!_

The frat house had a back door that led to a staircase to the third floor, where Robert, Logan, and a few other of the fraternity’s leaders had bedrooms. The back door had a code, but Dave had memorized it when he saw Robert entering it last time. 09105, wasn’t it? Well, Dave had to try and make it there, at the very least.

The walk is grueling, the late spring chill still enough to make Dave’s teeth chatter painfully. But he makes it, somehow avoiding interacting with any dominants other than a few catcalls from the opposite sidewalk, thankfully.

The lights are on: it’s a Saturday, so there’s probably some social going on in the basement right now. And yes, as he approaches, he can detect the vibration of bass from below him.

Dave hurries around to the back side of the house. The buttons of the keypad are faintly illuminated and he fumbles to make his frozen fingers indent the correct buttons. He pulls on the door.

It doesn’t open.

“Fuck!” Dave whispers to himself.

Dave tries the code again, but, once again, it fails.

“Really?” Dave says, and then he starts sobbing. Dave really isn’t a crier on a normal day. In fact, he has only cried once since coming to college, and that was while drunk. But now, he feels raw like an exposed wire. The tears slip down his cheek, pooling against his collarbone and he can practically _feel_ them soaking into the skin bitten red by those strangers who _used_ him. Who didn’t give a damn about him and just took what they want, leaving him a trembling mess.

So, pressing his forehead against the door Dave cries.

_Why?_

Dave pounds his fist against the door, finally turning and sinking to the ground with his back against it. He’s lost hope.

And then he slips backward when the door opens, crashing into a pair of legs that barely manage to balance themself.

“Fuck, Dave, what’s going on?” Dave knows that voice, and he wishes, desperately, that it belonged to anyone else in the world, anyone at all.

“Hey, Logan,” Dave croaks.

“Dave, who the fuck did this to you?” Logan is turning gruff, immediately formulating a plan of attack, but Dave, aided by Logan’s hand, stands and stumbles on wobbly legs, prompting Logan to reach out and steady him. His scent, no longer dulled by Dave’s pills, makes him read as a dominant and the feeling of a dominant touching him entices and reviles him at the same time. Dave cringes away, holding his hands against his face.

“I—”

“Robert,” Dave interrupts. “I need Robert.”

“Right, he’s upstairs. Let me help you.”

By some miracle, the two of them stumble up the stairs. At the top, Dave is panting from exhaustion, weariness from this night washing over him. Logan, though, is quiet. But the muscles of his arms tense and tremble with every step, rage contained in a glass jar.

“I can make it from here,” Dave whispers and Logan immediately steps back. For a moment, Dave misses the warmth of his body. But then he remembers that Logan, the strongest person he knows, is probably disgusted by him right now, ashamed of his weakness. So Dave turns back to him. “Logan? Please just forget this. Like it never happened.”

Logan narrows his eyes and says nothing. Dave takes those last few steps toward Robert’s bedroom and opens the door. His big, lounging on his bed, looks up with a haughty sort of annoyance.

“Well, very nice of you to leave me on read and then— holy shit, Dave, what happened?” Robert springs from the bed, rushing to seat Dave on the edge of it.

“I—” Dave swallows, feeling his eyelids dip. “I need to sleep on it.”

“Dave—”

“Robert, please. I’ll tell you everything, I just need rest.”

“I don’t like this, but,” Robert sighs. “But if that’s what you need, you can do it.”

“Thanks,” Dave says.

While Dave sinks into bed, he begs his mind to grant him a dreamless sleep. He begs his mind to let him have this night to recuperate. But he knows that he’ll be dreaming about this for awhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :)


	2. Newbie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s had a limited sex education,” Robert says, almost apologetically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 2!  
> This one is almost entirely world building, but I PROMISE there'll be some fun bits in the next chapter.  
> I keep changing my plans for the next chapter or so, so this may end up being a 5 chapter series. I guess we'll find out together!
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and if you do, or want to see something specific in this story, please comment!

Dave examines himself the morning after in Robert’s mirror. There’s a crack going almost directly down the middle of it. He thinks he might remember Robert telling him a story about it, something to do with urgent fingers, pressing too roughly, pressing just right, too eager to wait for the bed—

He looks like he’s been choked. Maybe he was? It’s hazy, but he can’t remember fingers around his throat, just soft, wet tongues and teeth. The bruises trail from his ear to his clavicle. The cherry on top is the obvious bite mark pressed into his left shoulder.

“Hmmmm,” Robert groans, turning over in his bed, startling Dave. It’s early in the morning and they both had a late night, so Robert should stay asleep for awhile yet.

 _I could slip away before he even wakes up_ , Dave thinks to himself, and immediately feels guilty. He’ll wait until Robert wakes up. He might even have advice, given his own submissive status.

Dave turns back to the mirror. He’s wearing nothing but his briefs and socks: Robert took the rest of his clothes to wash the dominant touch off of them. His face is ruddy with stress, but still pale, and his dark hair is sweaty. The dark marks on his belly from the paddle are stark against his skin. His face and neck are still a little damp from when he washed his face earlier, but he can almost _feel_ the saliva, sticky against his neck, and the semen, dry and cracking at the corners of his mouth. He feels ugly and used, tossed away like trash. But there are no tears in his eyes now, only a bleak emptiness. He’s heard of ‘sub drop’ before, but only in passing: his high school had a notoriously limited sex education class, and his parents, conservative as they are, never allowed him to go looking for information.

He turns back to the bed. Robert sleeps like the dead. He’s burrowed himself into his extensive collection of pillows, cushioned on every side. There’s just enough space for Dave to cuddle in as well, so he does. He had dreams earlier, but now, as he nestles close to Robert, comforted by the presence of another submissive in his state, he feels a final wave of exhaustion pass over him and seems to sink into the bed as he falls asleep.

 

“...but it _is_ a risk, and you know it. Concealing himself like that, what was he thinking?”

“Oh, you damn well _know_ what he was thinking, don’t—”

“Yeah! Nothing smart!”

“Keep quiet, you’ll wake him up.”

Dave blinks blearily, head hazy with sleep.

“Great, then I can ask him some questions and clear everything up and—”

“Absolutely not!”

That’s Robert, isn’t it? He seems upset.

“Oh, and why not? Because you’re going to protect him?”

“What, like you’re going to? The last thing he wants to do right now is talk to a dominant, especially one like _you_.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, exactly?”

And that’s Logan, angry as usual. Dave knows he’s not supposed to be overhearing this, so he shifts in Robert’s bed, tugging at the sheets. There’s silence for a moment, and then that telltale rustle of cloth indicating they’re turning to look at him. Dave raises his head, squinting at them like he just woke up.

“Goo’ morning,” he mumbles, and they stare at him from the doorframe. Or, at least, Robert does. Logan meets his eyes for just a moment, and then they dart back to Robert, like Dave isn’t even there. Robert is already dressed like he’s heading to work, wearing slacks and a button down shirt, blond hair expertly coiffed. He hasn’t put on a tie yet though, and the open neck of his shirt exposes his collar, a thin chain which glimmers slightly in the low light.

Logan, on the other hand, looks like he’s just lost a fight getting out of bed. He’s obviously wearing yesterday’s clothes: rumpled jeans and work boots, an unbuttoned patterned flannel half tucked in, a white tank top, and a backwards baseball cap over his dark, unwashed hair. His scruff is starting to get out of hand, and there’s a fairly obvious beer stain on his tank top. He’s wearing the official uniform of the average privileged frat boy, and he looks _damn_ good in it.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Robert says, mouth twisting into something as close to a smile as it is to a grimace.

“If you’d just let me ask a few questions—” Logan starts.

“Later,” Robert says shortly, and closes the bedroom door in his face. There’s silence for a moment, a muffled swear, and then receding footsteps.

“What were you guys talking about?” Dave asks.

“You,” Robert says, and sits down on the bed next to him. Dave sighs and lowers his head back down to the pillow.

“You’re not even gonna try to lie?”

“What would be the point? You’re not stupid—” Robert stops and considers for a moment. “Actually, the jury may still be out on that one.”

“Oh?” Dave raises an eyebrow.

“Well, I went through your bag last night, like any good big would,” Robert starts, leaning over to his nightstand and pulling out an empty bottle: one of his old containers for his suppression pills. Dave can feel a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I’m not surprised you kept your identity from the brothers, or even from me. That’s your personal choice, obviously. I _am_ surprised that you took these. Where did you even get them from? A friend of a friend of a friend?”

“I think there was one more friend in there,” Dave mumbles, and Robert snorts.

“Well, whatever these are, they’re not FDA approved.” Robert is quiet for a moment, turning the the little bottle over in his hands. The sleeves of his shirt tug up his wrists when he puts the bottle back on his nightstand, revealing faint bruises, mostly likely from handcuffs. Dave blushes and looks away. “And they probably did more harm than good.”

“It was better than the alternative,” Dave says softly. Robert looks at him and his gaze is intense, but almost weary. He understands what Dave means.

“Dave, what happened yesterday?” Robert asks, grasping one of Dave’s hands in both of his.

Dave tells him, minus the sweaty details, and for every harmful action, Robert squeezes his hand like he’s trying to break it. When he finishes, there’s color high in Robert’s face, blooming at his forehead and temples: he’s angry.

“I don’t want to go to the police, though,” Dave says. “I just want to move on, and forget this ever happened. I want to go back on my pills.”

“Well, it’s not really that easy,” Robert says. “Because when you were on the pill, you read as vanilla, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Dave confirms. It was easier that way.

“Well, if you were taking regulated pills, you’d be reading as submissive by now, but you’re not,” Robert explains.

“Oh?” Dave says. “Am I reading as dominant? Or maybe versatile?” That would certainly be interesting.

“No, you’re reading null, like nothing at all.”

_What?_

“Sorry, what?”

“Well, reading as vanilla is a pretty common side effect for sub drop, but—“ Robert starts.

“Sub drop?” Dave asks. He’s heard the term before, but had never gotten a definitive definition.

“Sorry, I keep forgetting your sex ed was worthless. It’s like a horrible, drained feeling subs get when they’re really emotional during a scene and don’t get aftercare, but it can happen to subs because of other things too. You know, like being attacked on a subway?”

“Oh, okay.”

“But anyways, reading as vanilla is normal, but I think you’re reading as null because of these pills. They might not have been blocking your hormones in a safe way.”

“So, what does that mean for me?”

“It means that I’m going to take you to my role doctor, and we’re gonna figure out what’s wrong with my little and give you a sex ed crash course. So get dressed, I set some clothes out for you.”

Well, it’s not like Dave has anything better to do.

 

“Hello, I’m Doctor Tanaka, please follow me.”

The doctor is a woman and she reads as versatile. Her dark hair is pulled into a low ponytail, with streaks of gray hinting at her age. There are wrinkles around her eyes and mouth from smiling. In short, she is the least threatening medical professional that Dave has ever met.

“What brings you two boys here today? Are you having trouble matching your dynamics?” her smile is genuine, but the comment still startles Dave into coughing.

“Uh, no, definitely not,” Dave says, and she laughs.

“I know that, I’m just teasing. Robert has come in a couple times with his dominant before,” she says, leading them from the lobby to a room equipped with all of the basic amenities of any medical practice: a garrish amount of gloves, a jar full of tongue depressors, and a cabinet containing who knows what. She sits him down in a chair and prepares to take blood.

“Well, we’re here because I was taking, um… suppression pills that I didn’t buy, officially,” he admits. “And they stopped working.”

Tanaka pushes the needle into his arm, and he watches the tube the syringe is attached to begin to fill up.

“Well, that’s not particularly uncommon,” Doctor Tanaka says, flipping through the symptoms/complaints paperwork Dave filled out a few minutes ago. “Especially in the city. But you wrote something here about sub drop, and you also checked your dynamic as submissive, but you’re reading as null. So, clearly there are other factors at play. Any idea what they might be?”

Tanaka pulls the needle out and presses a cotton ball to his inner elbow to stop the bleeding. An assistant pops in to grab the little tubes of his blood.

“Um—” Dave can’t even get a full word out before he trips on his tongue.

“He was assaulted on the subway coming home by three dominants,” Robert starts. Doctor Tanaka immediately started writing something down on the paperwork. “He was on the last day of his placebo pill, so they figured out he’s a sub. He thinks they sprayed him with some sort of dominant extract, probably saliva. They took advantage of him being disoriented and being in subspace for, apparently, the first time, and punished him without consent, so he dropped.” Tanaka continues to scribble down notes, frantically attempting to keep up with Robert.

“Someone else in the car called the cops, but Dave was really freaked out so he just went back to the frat house without giving a statement or anything like that. He was a little distressed, but not visibly anxious, so I think he dropped pretty hard. He was alright this morning, but he’s still a little down.”

Dave wonders if Robert was a dominant in a past life.

“Alright, so now that we have the action, let’s go back to the backdrop. I’m just going to ask you basic questions about your identity and how you present yourself, so please try to answer honestly,” Doctor Tanaka says, flipping to another page in the paperwork. “Does that sound good to you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dave says.

“When did you start to read as submissive?”

“I was 18, about a month and a half before I left for college.”

“A late bloomer!”

“Yeah, my family thought I was going to end up vanilla. They weren’t super happy about me ending up submissive.”

“Tell me more about that.”

“My family?” Dave asks, and Tanaka nods. “Well, they’re fairly conservative. I think my parents were the first generation to accept that men can be submissive and women can be dominant, but they still believed in traditional roles. So, they didn’t try to make me go to conversion therapy or anything, but they did expect me to be traditionally submissive in the house.”

“How so?”

“Um, cleaning dishes and keeping the house tidy. If I ever talked back to my dad he would punish me, and if I ever talked back to my mom it was even worse. That’s why I ended up leaving and taking pills.”

“And what exactly did your dad do to punish you?” Tanaka asks.

“Usually it was the belt, a couple times he’d lock me in my room. When my parents found out I got accepted into the scholarship program for college, he was furious and he locked me in my room without food for about two days. I ran away right after that.”

“Your dad starved you?” Robert asks, aghast. “No wonder you’re insecure about your role. I had been wondering why you concealed yourself.”

“You knew I was concealing?” Dave asks. “How?”

“I’m your big,” Robert snaps. “It’s my business to know you better than you do.”

“Boys, let’s get back on track,” Tanaka says, bringing Dave’s attention back to her. “How did being punished make you feel?”

“Well, it was a lot different after I found out I was submissive. I guess it was,” Dave thinks for a moment. “Before, I would feel bad, but I usually still defended myself. And after, I really felt guilty, even if I was right.”

“Like you deserved it?” Tanaka asks. Dave gets the feeling she’s heard similar stories to his, and nods. “That’s not uncommon. Young, inexperienced, or newly responding submissives are often vulnerable to what is commonly called ‘guilt tripping,’ which is when you’re made to feel bad about your actions or emotions without reasoning. Your body naturally responds to being punished by searching for what you did wrong, in order to resolve your guilt. But when you’ve been guilt tripped, there’s no real reason to feel guilty, so you retain feeling of frustration, anger, hopelessness, and, in many cases, misplaced guilt.”

“Wow,” Dave says. “I don’t know about all of that, but it definitely felt bad.” Tanaka laughs.

“You’ll learn to be more in touch with your role as time goes on, and that will help with interpreting your own emotions.”

“Well,” Dave starts, frowning, “I was actually planning on going back on suppression pills. This whole experience has just made being submissive seem even less… appealing,” he admit. Tanaka frowns and looks at Robert for a moment, before looking back to Dave.

“You know that you can’t do that, right? Especially in your condition.”

“What do you mean, in my condition?”

Once again, Tanaka looks to Robert with narrowed eyes.

“He’s had a limited sex education,” Robert says, almost apologetically.

“Ah, that makes more sense. Well, what do you know?” Tanaka asks, turning to Dave.

“About roles? Well, there’s dominant, versatile, submissive, vanilla, and null, but null is usually from sickness, or stress, right?” Tanaka nods, so he continues. “So, ideal pairings are sub/dom, verse/verse, and vanilla/vanilla.”

“What do you mean by ‘ideal pairing?’” Tanaka asks.

“Well, I mean my family thought everything else was immoral, but it’s just unhealthy, right? And non-typical pairings hardly ever work out, right?”

“Well, your ‘ideal’ pairs are the most common, true,” Tanaka says. “But non-typical pairings certainly happen, and those relationships can be just as fulfilling as any other.”

“But what about roles? And balance?”

“What do you mean?” Tanaka asks.

“Like, doms and subs go together because subs are weak and fall to temptation easily, so they pair with doms to punish them, yeah?”

The room falls silent. Dave looks at Tanaka, who seems somewhat disturbed. Robert is in a similar state.

“Is that what you really think, Dave?” Robert asks.

“I mean, yeah, that’s what all the statistics show, right?” Dave says. “Why did you think I was taking suppression pills? I didn’t want to be… that way. And now my pills failed and those doms on the subway, I mean they took advantage of me, but it’s not like I was trying all that hard to stop them, right?”

“That’s not how that works, okay?” Robert says flatly. “It’s just not.”

“Here, let me explain some of the science side of this, Dave,” Tanaka says. “The biggest thing that sets submissives and dominants apart are the way they perceive pleasure, in both a sexual and nonsexual context: submissives perceive pleasure as something they give or receive in order to please someone else, while for dominants it’s something they give or take to please themselves. Versatiles are able to switch between the two perceptions, as well as find the middle ground between them. Submissives and dominants tend to be drawn to one another because of that contrast, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Dave says.

“But everyone has preferences. There are some submissives that are only attracted to other submissives, and vice versa. However, the reason submissives and dominants tend to enjoy each other’s… company… the most is because of a certain hormone called amoresterone exchanged in all bodily fluids, commonly called amor.”

“Is that what they sprayed me with?”

“Well, we won’t know for certain until the blood tests come back, but it was most likely some form of extract, yes.”

“So, I guess you’re saying that there’s a difference in between dominant and submissive amoresterone?” Dave asks.

“Exactly,” Tanaka responds. “Typically, submissives respond more to dominant amoresterone and vice versa. Versatiles are capable of producing either, or a mix of the two. But some submissives respond more to submissive amoresterone, and some dominants respond more to dominant amoresterone.”

“Oh, okay. I guess that makes sense,” Dave says. “But what does that have to do with traditional roles?”

“Well, nothing really,” Tanaka says. “But, submissives have always been stereotyped as the weaker role, in the same way that women have always been stereotyped as the weaker sex or gender. In my opinion, that correlation is definitely not a coincidence.”

“Wow,” Dave says. “That’s a lot to think about, I guess.”

“Well, you would have been thinking about it since third grade if you’d had a proper sex education,” Robert mutters. Tanaka _tisks_ at him.

“Now, now,” she objects. “I may not know much about fraternities, but as far as I know you should be taking on a mentoring role.” Robert has the decency to look vaguely ashamed.

“Yeah, it’s just hard for me to introduce him to something I’ve known all my life, I guess.”

“Well, I think it’s an amazing opportunity. Having a big with experience in atypical and typical role relationships may just be exactly what Dave needs. You’ve been a fish out of water before: try to remember that, and what it meant to you.”

“You’ve been in atypical relationships before?” Dave asks, astonished.

“Well, it’s not exactly a secret but I don’t always bring it up,” Robert says with a crooked smile. “Anyways, I want to give you two some time alone while I think about my choices and whether or not I should be telling my doctor about them,” he says, laughing as he walks out the door.

The room falls silent for a moment, and Dave realizes how easily Robert can fill a room. For a moment he thinks to himself, that’s fairly unusual for a submissive, but he catches the thought and pulls it back in. Obviously, this role business is more complicated than he first thought. He needs to reconsider his perceptions.

“Now that we’re alone,” Tanaka says with a smile, “how are you doing, really? I know it can be hard to be totally vulnerable around Robert, given how quickly he picks up on it.” And she’s right, really. If Dave is honest, he knows he’s kept many emotional struggles from Robert simply because he knows it would worry him, and he doesn’t want that on him.

“I’m, uh,” he stutters. “I’m definitely not at my best, I guess.”

“Yes, well, I wouldn’t expect you to be, after all that’s happened to you. I had my technicians test your blood while we were talking and they just emailed me the results: you were sprayed with one of the purest forms of dominant amoresterone out there, most likely from a dominant with owner and master tendencies. It’s extremely potent. I know you mentioned not ‘fighting back’ before, so I want you to know that your response was completely normal. The average submissive is reduced to a near catatonic state by this, and from my understanding this was your first sexual role encounter. Do not be ashamed of yourself, please,” Tanaka says, a hint of pleading in her voice. Dave swallows, and considers her words. He knows, deep down, that she’s right. But the surface level of him, the prejudice that his parents so carefully instilled him, argues.

“Okay, I’ll try,” Dave says, and Tanaka sighs as if in relief.

“Well, that’s all I can ask of you,” she responds.

“Doctor Tanaka, you said before that I won’t be able to stay on suppression pills. I don’t suppose that also includes, uh, legal ones?”

“It included every form of suppression, legal or otherwise, for a few reasons.”

“And what are those reasons, exactly?” Dave asks.

“Well, to start off, newly presented roles aren’t supposed to go on suppression pills for at least a year. You wrote in your information sheet that you started after about two months, correct?”

“Correct,” Dave says.

“Secondly,” Tanaka continues, “suppression pills are really only supposed to be taken in very specific situations. Perhaps in extended combat situations, or because of hormone imbalances, specifically those with heightened hormone production. You’re actually experiencing an extreme drop in hormones at the moment.”

“In my amoresterone?” Dave asks. “Is that why I’m reading as null?”

“Exactly,” Tanaka says. “I cannot, in your condition, ethically prescribe suppression pills.”

“Great,” Dave says, putting his head in his hands. “So, I have to just get used to all of the… perks of being a submissive?”

“Well, that’s something else I wanted to talk about. You filled out a questionnaire when you signed in, remember?” she asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Dave says. It was fairly long and detailed, but he hadn’t thought a ton of it, except for the questions involving sexual encounters. Those were fairly invasive.

“There were a few things that stood out to me about it,” Tanaka says. “I’ll start in the emotional wellbeing section. You wrote here that in situations of stress you experienced extreme emotional swings and panic attacks and in times of rest you felt almost nothing. Is that true?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Dave says.

“And what did you feel last night?” Tanaka asks.

“Well, a lot of things. It was hard to control myself, I cried a few times. It was, you know, a really stressful situation. But right after, when I got to the fraternity house, well, it was like someone had switched me off. I just wanted to rest, I wouldn’t let Robert or Logan talk to me about it.”

“Logan?” Tanaka questions.

“Oh, he’s the fraternity president. He’s well known on campus so I forget that people don’t know about him sometimes,” Dave laughs. “He, uh, wasn’t that happy this morning though. Said I wasn’t being smart. He was pretty angry last night, too.”

“What was he angry about?” Tanaka asks.

“Uh, I’m not really sure. I hated to be that way in front of him, though.”

“What way?”

“Well, submissive, I guess. He’s a dominant, fits the typical stereotype almost to the tee,” Dave says.

“Almost?” Tanaka asks.

“Well, if he fit it to the tee he probably wouldn’t want Robert to be in such a high position in the fraternity,” Dave clarifies.

“Wow,” Tanaka says, and sighs. “I’ll admit, you’re probably my first patient to have such a conservative and traditional upbringing.”

“Sorry,” Dave apologizes.

“Oh, please, don’t say that,” Tanaka says hurriedly. “I need to be equipped to deal with situations like this, which I am. I’m just not used to this.”

“Well, me neither,” Dave says, and they both laugh.

“Anyways,” Tanaka says, getting back on track. “Emotional instability is extremely common in people who suppress their roles, as well as those who reject them, which I’ll get to in a moment. I wanted to address the sexual activity, encounters, and preferences portion of the questionnaire.”

“Great,” Dave mutters.

“So, for sexual activity you put down that you rarely, if ever, masturbate, that you’re a virgin, that you haven’t experienced most sexual activities, and that you don’t know your own preferences. Is that all true?” Tanaka asks.

“Yeah,” Dave says. “I mean, my first sexual experience was yesterday, I guess. And before that, well, I had crushes in high school but they never went anywhere.”

“Hmm,” Tanaka hums. “And you’re not asexual?”

“Oh, no way,” Dave says. “I just… I don’t know, haven’t found anybody yet? Or anybody that I’m comfortable with, I guess.”

“Well, sex avoidance or aversion is also extremely common for those who experience role rejection,” Tanaka says. “At the moment, I would diagnose you with both low hormone imbalance, and premature role rejection.”

“Alright, so what’s the cure?” Dave asks.

“I suspect you won’t enjoy my answer,” Tanaka begins. “But there’s no pill that will get you on the fast track to accepting yourself. I would, however, recommend some daily vitamins made for submissives, because they will aid in safely balancing your hormones.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Dave asks. “Just wait until I feel okay with all of this?”

“No, definitely not,” Tanaka says. “This is actually a time for exploration. I would recommend asking Robert about local bars or clubs that have Newbie Nights, or perhaps joining a dating app. To be quite frank, the most common “cures” are sex and role exploration. But there’s no single road to recovery.”

“I— are you sure?” Dave asks. “And what are Newbie Nights?” Tanaka laughs.

“Yes, I’m sure. And I think that Robert will do a better job explaining it than me. I’ll admit I’m not exactly up to date on events in the area, or the slang that young people are using these days. But the core of the matter, is you should explore yourself, and have fun doing it, alright? That’s what matters,” Tanaka says with a smile. “Also, you should come back about a month from now so we can check your hormone levels again. Until then, I hope you enjoy exploring what makes you unique!”

 

Dave and Robert ride back to the fraternity on the bus, and they manage to stay off topic for half the ride back. Robert is the first to break the ice.

“So, what’s the prognosis?”

“It’s, uh, role rejection and hormone imbalance,” Dave says.

“And what’s the solution?” Robert asks.

“Um,” Dave says. “Vitamin supplements.”

“Okay, I’ve called myself a dumb bitch before, but I’m not _that_ stupid,” Robert snorts. “What else?” Dave sighs and fiddles his thumbs forlornly before answering.

“Tanaka says I need to… explore myself and my role, in, uh,” Dave sighs. “In a sexual way.”

“Oh?” Roberts eyebrows rise.

“Yeah, she recommended, um, Newbie Nights and dating apps. I don’t really know much about either, though, so she suggested I ask you about it.”

“Well,” Robert starts, leaning in as if telling Dave a secret, “it just so happens that your big has connections in almost every single club in this goddamn city. And, lucky for the both of us, you just finished your finals for this term, so we have all of spring break to check them out. We’ll start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Dave asks. “Isn’t that a bit soon?”

“The only reason we’re not starting tonight is so I can teach you all about club etiquette and other important stuff,” Robert says, and then pauses. “I mean, if you’re really, truly uncomfortable I won’t make you go. But I think that the best way for you to approach this is to throw yourself in, okay?” Dave considers for a moment, considers, once again, the fact that he has nothing better to do.

“Uh, sure. Let’s do it, I guess,” Dave says.

“Fuck yeah, that’s the kind of slight enthusiasm I like to hear,” Robert laughs. “Well, let’s go back to your dorm and pick out some outfits while I tell you everything you need to know.”

Dave wonders what, exactly, he’s gotten himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :)


	3. White Bandana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s an open room just around the corner, baby. Let me show you something real good,” the man whispers.
> 
> “I, yes,” Dave babbles. “Uh, yes—”
> 
> The man chuckles at his inexperience, even as he guides him around the corner.
> 
> “You can call me sir.”

The club is loud from the moment that Dave steps in, just behind Robert, and he almost turns on his heel and walks out. It’s overwhelming.

“C’mon, let’s walk over there,” Robert says, gesturing to the far corner of the dance floor. “There’s usually more room. And perk up, please! You look great, but you need to flaunt it, okay? That’ll get more attention than hunching in on yourself like that.” Dave isn’t sure if he wants more attention, but he does his best to appear confident.

“Yeah, like that,” Jacob says. Jacob is Robert’s dominant, a monster of a man that stands at least a head taller than Dave. He’s as gentle as a teddy bear, but from the bruises that Robert tends to display, Dave wonders if he’s quite so gentle in the bedroom. “Acting confidant will set you apart from a lot of newbie submissives here, and a lot of dominants find that attractive, that willingness to learn without shame.” Dave sighs, but takes that into account. Jacob is a very thoughtful person who seems to always be right, so Dave straightens up and tries not to appear frightened out of his own skin.

Robert had torn through his closet the night before, putting together a few outfits that would be ‘tasteful, but provocative.’ He’d settled on skinny jeans and boots. They’d had a bit of an argument on his shirt and the exact amount of buttons that should be open, but Dave ended up yielding and wearing a collared shirt with some sort of abstracted leaf pattern that he hadn’t worn since picking it up from a thrift shop for a hawaiian themed party.

“It’ll make you look youthful and inexperienced!” Robert had said. “Which isn’t a super great thing usually, but it’s Newbie night so you’ll fit right in.”

Now, Dave isn’t so sure.

The one good, comforting thing that happened today was the Dave started to read as submissive shortly after he woke up. His roommate, a vanilla, hadn’t noticed, but a few of his floormates had eyed him cautiously. Luckily, he left almost immediately in the morning to head to the fraternity house.

They reach the other side of the dance floor and there’s just barely enough room to breathe, which is an improvement. Doms, subs, and verses dance together, changing partners constantly. Every once in awhile, a couple, or three or four people, seem to latch on to one another, hands reaching both curiously and demandingly. Dave spots a few couples disappearing into a back hallways, marked ‘Bathrooms and Pleasure Rooms.’ It’s fairly obvious what they’re heading over to do.

“So, what do you think?” Robert asks loudly over the music. “Everything you hoped for?”

“I’m not really sure yet,” Dave admits. “It’s a lot to take in, you know?” Robert and Jacob nod wisely. He’s pretty sure they met in a club, old pros like them.

“Do you have any idea what you’re looking for? Like male or female, that sort of thing?” Jacob asks him.

“Uh, male I guess. Yeah, I prefer guys, I think,” Dave says.

“Well, take a look around!” Robert says. “There’s plenty of guys to choose from. Try heading out onto the dance floor, and remember what I said about bandanas!”

Right, he forgot about those. Robert had explained to him several things about club etiquette the night before, one of them being bandanas and handkerchiefs. While there was usually a long list of colors and meanings, Newbie nights were typically restricted to two: black and white. A black bandana meant you were looking for someone more experienced, while a white meant you were looking for someone new to the scene. Dominants wore them in their left pocket, submissives on the right, and versatiles wore them on whatever side they were more interested in that night, or both. If they were in your back pockets, you were inexperienced, and if you wore them in your front pockets, you were experienced.

Dave is equipped with a white bandana in his back right pocket, indicating his interest in an inexperienced person, his submissive role, and his inexperience. Looking around, he can see all types of people with different bandanas. It looks like there are a lot of dominants looking for inexperienced submissives, which works against him, he supposes. More people will pay attention to him.

 _No, David_ , he thinks to himself. _That should be what you want!_

Taking a deep breath, Dave steps into the throng of people dancing and away from his big. Immediately, he is entrenched in sound and sensation. He’s never heard this song before, but the rhythm is irresistible and he moves in time with it, bending and moving with the rest of the crowd. Every side of him is in contact with the person next to him, pushing and rubbing against one another. It’s overwhelming, but he fights to remain calm, or, at least, somewhat level headed. He finds himself shifting into an area of the crowd which seems to only be bouncing up and down, and tries to follow along, but his body feels awkward and sweaty. His thighs feel slick, and he wonders if maybe he used too much lubricant when he was preparing himself.

 _It’s always good to prep for the best and worst outcome!_ Robert had told him, delightfully instructing him on how to clean himself and prepare for a potential partner. Now, though, the lube just feels sticky, too warm to be comfortable.

Dave pushes his way out of the crowd, now on the other side from Robert and Jacob. There’s a bar on this side of the club, but they don’t serve alcohol on Newbie Night. It seems to Dave a wise decision: his emotions are already more than conflicted enough, alcohol would be of no help. He heads over anyways, hoping that they at least still serve water.

“We don’t serve alcohol on Newbie Night,” the bartender, a dominant woman with a pierced eyebrow, says. “We have water, coke, and diet coke. What do you want?”

“Water, please,” he says. She slides him a cup a moment later, which he gratefully gulps down, the icy temperature burning his lungs. The moment the empty cup touches the surface of the bar, she snatches it from his hand and refills it, setting it down in front of him.

“Drink it slower, this time,” she says. “I don’t want you drowning.” He obeys her, and she turns around to arrange some of the bottles at the back of the bar. Dave is the only one sitting there at the moment, so she ends up turning back to him.

“You new to this?” she asks.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “My first time, actually.”

“First time in a club, or first time…?” she raises an eyebrow suggestively.

“Everything,” he says. “Well, actually, mostly everything. But it wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter, I guess,” he says, and laughs. But her face turns ashen.

“Wow, I’m sorry I asked, I know that can really suck for the first time around,” she apologizes.

“Oh, no, no, don’t worry about it. I’m… dealing with it as best I can. I went to a role doctor and she said the best thing to do was, uh, put myself out and get, you know, experience?” he fumbles.

“Oh, okay,” she says. “That makes more sense. My doctor said the same thing when I had role rejection.”

“Oh, me too!” Dave says. “I mean, that’s what I have, role rejection.”

“What are the odds?” she smiles. Another customer catches her eye and she quickly serves her, returning to Dave a moment later. “So, how’s your first night treating you? I know my first was stressful, to say the least.”

“Yeah, I think I could agree with that,” Dave says. “Actually, I’m curious. Is the doctor right? Will, uh, getting around, whatever you want to call it, actually help me?” She sighs.

“I guess I hate to say it, but yeah,” she says. “I thought it was a load of BS, denied it the whole time even while I did it. But, in the end, when I found my partner, well,” she smiles. “I knew myself so well already, what I wanted and what I wanted to do, that it was easy to focus on her, you know? I don’t think I would have been able to settle down with her before that. Especially since we’re both dominants.”

“Oh, that’s… well, that’s great!” Dave says. She raises an eyebrow, and he hurries to explain, “sorry, I was raised in a really, really conservative family so I didn’t really, uh, get it for awhile. Sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughs. “At least you’re trying to learn, right?”

“Right,” Dave sighs. “I just feel out of depth.”

“Hey, we all do in the beginning. It really is just a matter of time and experience, so try to get out and experience as much as you can.”

“Thanks,” Dave says. “I mean, for everything. The water and the heartfelt advice. I guess I better head back to the dance floor, huh?”

“Actually, let me give you one more bit of advice,” she says, and leans across the bar, pointing a finger over his shoulder. “That guy over there, with the glasses.” Dave turns just enough to see the man. He’s a little taller than Dave, wearing a brightly patterned shirt that seems to jump off of his dark skin. He is, indeed, wearing glasses: they’re big and fashionable looking. And, he reads as versatile. More importantly, when he turns to the side there’s a white bandana in his back left pocket: he’s looking for an inexperienced submissive.

“That guy has been watching your ass ever since you started heading this way. He’s hot as hell, and he’s inexperienced but I’ve seen him go home with a couple other subs in the past. If I were you, he’s exactly the type of person I’d be looking for,” the bartender finishes.

Dave chances another look at the man over his shoulder and, just like she said, the man is looking at him before his gaze darts away. He’s definitely attractive, and Dave was hoping for someone who wasn’t entirely inexperienced. The man’s eyes wander back to Dave, and they lock gazes for a moment before Dave averts his eyes.

“Thank you, again,” Dave says, sliding a few dollars to the bartender.

“Hey, just go have fun, alright?” she says, gratefully taking the money and smiling.

 

It takes him a few minutes to build his courage up, but Dave heads back to the dance floor, slowly pushing his way closer to where he last saw the versatile. Except, when he gets to where he was dancing, he can’t spot him. There’s plenty of other guys, but not the one he was looking for. He turns around, looking toward the side of the room that Robert was on, but can’t spot him either. Looks like he’s on his own for now. The thought is a little stressful, and he looks for the bathroom so he can splash some water on his face. Perhaps that will soothe him.

Dave heads to the hallway he saw earlier, marked ‘Bathrooms and Pleasure Rooms.’ It’s dimly lit, but he spots the men’s restroom and heads in that direction. Except, just as his hand touches the handle of the door, a warm, burning hand presses into the small of his back, molten against the sweat on his back. Lips press against the shell of his ear, soft.

“There’s an open room just around the corner, baby. Let me show you something real good,” the man whispers.

“I, yes,” Dave babbles. “Uh, yes—”

The man chuckles at his inexperience, even as he guides him around the corner.

“You can call me sir.”

Dave’s stomach heats at the phrase, even as he allows himself to be pushed into the room at the end of the hallway, marked ‘Pleasure Closet.’

“Yes, sir.”

 

The room has been decorated to look like a janitor’s closet, but Dave immediately notices that it isn’t from a few hints. First: the drain in the floor. Second: the rather obvious handles built into the shelves to easily grip and balance. And third: when the man— no, sir— shoves him past the door frame and he grasps at a toilet plunger laid on a shelf for balance, he finds that it has been superglued to the shelf.

“Fuck—” he gasps, moving his hands to the built in handles to steady himself, when two hands _grab_ his hips to keep him in place, a heavy, burning weight pressing against his back from thigh to neck. “Sir, please—” he gasps, his cock immediately hardening under the onslaught of sensation.

“Shh, baby,” the low voice rumbles, and a large palm rises to grasp his throat, pressing just enough that he clenches his teeth to prevent noise from escaping. “I’m gonna take care of you, just you wait. What’s your word?”

“My word, sir?” Dave asks, and then remembers: his safeword. “Oh, it’s scotch. What’s your word, sir?” There’s another rumble of laughter, and the man’s other hand shifts to the front of his jeans, palming his aching cock.

“You’re not gonna need it,” he says. “Is this your first time out, baby?”

“Yes,” Dave gasps. The man shifts backward a step, giving him enough room to—

 _Smack!_ A hand, large enough to span almost the width of his hips, cracks against his ass and Dave yelps.

“Yes, what?” the man demands.

“Yes, sir,” Dave says.

“Damn, you’re a quick teach, baby,” he says.

 _Smack!_ Another blow lands and Dave cries out once more, bucking into the man’s hand.

“And your ass looks damn good in these jeans,” he says, the hand at his crotch creeping under his shirt to tweak a nipple. The man leans forward, his lips latching onto Dave’s neck and sucking a mark there. Dave moans in appreciation and the man steps forward again, grinding against his ass and Dave can feel— yes, there— the hard, unyielding line of the man’s dick pushing against him.

“It looks even better out of them, sir,” Dave says, and the man presses even harder against him, his hand settling on his hip and shoulder respectively.

“Yeah, I bet it does,” the man says. “I bet your ass would look amazing, wrapped around my cock.” For a versatile, this man is very dominant. But Dave doesn’t mind, doesn’t mind at all.

“Yes, sire,” Dave says. “Please, sir.”

Two hands grasp the edge of his pants and rip them down to his knees so suddenly that Dave _whimpers_ and feels a pulse of precome push out of his dick. The man, just as suddenly, drops to his knees behind Dave and then—

Oh.

_Oh._

That’s a tongue in his ass.

With one cheek in each hand, the man _digs_ in with his tongue, twisting and scooping it like he’s trying to get something out of him. The muscle just inside twitches, seemingly out of Dave’s control, like it can’t decide whether or not to let the tongue in.

“Fuck, fuck—” Dave babbles, weak in the knees. This man is trying to _consume_ him. His tongue pokes deep into him, then flattens to lap at his hole and make him squirm. The lube only aids the man’s ministrations, letting out a filthy squelching noise that makes Dave’s cheeks burn. He feels wet, like a slut. He feels like he’s being rewarded by this man, and it feels _delicious_.

And then, amid the wave of sensations, Dave can feel a buildup of pleasure. Trembling, while the man circles his hole with his tongue and then stabs at it with the tip. His balls draw tight against his body and he grunts, so close to release.

Quick as lighting, a hand reaches around and holds the base of his cock, stopping his orgasm with a painful lurch. With a final _slurp_ the man laps at his hole one last time and then stands up again.

“Not so fast, baby,” he rumbles, and then rough denim of his jeans catches on the smooth skin of Dave’s ass. “Do you have a condom, baby? For my cock?”

“I don’t, sir,” Dave says. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Aw, that’s alright baby, we can make do,” the man says, and Dave can hear the rustle of clothing as he pushes his own pants down. And then that hard cock is pressed _directly_ against his ass, so hot it burns. He can actually feel it pulse from the blood rushing through it.

“Yes, sir,” Dave whimpers. Fast as can be, a finger reaches down to his ass and pushes into his hole, rough and unfamiliar and Dave chokes on a yelp. The man doesn’t linger, however, simply gathering lube from his ass and then smearing it down, in between his thighs and the bottom of his balls. A hand pulls his hips back while the other pushes his back so that he bends over slightly, grabbing at a lower shelf for balance. Dave tilts his hips up and blushes at the thought of what he must look like, bent over and presenting his ass. The man groans, apparently pleased at the sight. Dave can feel the wet head of the man’s cock bounce against his ass once, twice, before being guided lower. It presses, for a heartstopping moment, against his hole and Dave inhales sharply at the slight stretch, but then the man presses lower still, in between his legs.

“Press those pretty thighs together, baby,” the man says, and Dave obeys without a thought. Immediately, the man uses the slick tunnel of his thighs to fuck him, pushing his cock roughly through his legs. It’s not actual fucking, obviously, but even the pseudo-feeling of it, that tug back and forth, has Dave breathless.

“Please, sir,” Dave says, tongue catching on the words. The man obliges him, grunting as he pushes harder, and now there’s a filthy _slap_ when their skin collides together and Dave moans at the sound. Fuck, that doctor was absolutely right, he feels like this is exactly where he’s supposed to be right now, serving this man in a backroom in a club, and damn his old feelings of disgust at his role. This is where he’s meant to be.

The man slows for a moment and Dave takes a moment to catch his breath before the man’s hands travel once more, one reaching up and tightening on his throat while the other descends to smack his ass once more. Those soft lips press against his ear, teeth tugging at the lobe and hot breath moistening the side of his face.

“You want it, baby?” the man asks. “You want it?”

“Yes, sir, please,” Dave begs, even if he doesn’t know what for.

“Fuck!” the man gasps and his hips stutter, before he pushes forward one last time and his cock pulses along the underside of Dave’s balls, spurting cum onto the wall. Without wasting a moment, the man descends to his knees once more and this time pushes two fingers inside of him, immediately scissoring and stretching his hole. The burn startles Dave and he yelps, then moans at the full feeling.

“You look so good baby, so good on my fingers,” the man groans. And then his fingers press forward with intent, pushing deeper and deeper until the tips brush against something that makes Dave’s cock _jump_ like it’s been tugged by a string. When David grunts at that, the man’s fingers begin pumping rapidly, pushing at that spot within him that makes his guts clench. “Come for me, come on my fingers,” the man orders. And, God help him, that command is all Dave needs to jerk forward suddenly and come harder than he ever has before, hands clenching on the shelves when he sobs silently.

“Oh my God,” he says. “Oh my God.” He’s not sure if his brain is functioning enough to allow him to say anything else.

“Damn, baby. You’re really something else, huh?” the man says, standing up and wiping his fingers against Dave’s asscheek. “Thanks for the lay, see you around, I hope.” And with a final smack on his ass, the man turns and leaves the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. Dave turns around to watch him go and realizes something with a gasp:

The man isn’t the inexperienced versatile he’d been looking at on the dance floor. He’s a dominant, tall and muscled with a white bandana sticking out of his front left pocket, meaning he was an experienced dominant looking for someone inexperienced. Fuck.

Shamefully, Dave tugs up his pants, hissing when the cloth touches his oversensitized cock. His first experience, and it wasn’t really with the guy he wanted it to be with.

But then, a moment later, Dave shakes the shame away. He’d enjoyed himself, and learned that perhaps being a submissive wasn’t so bad after all. If nothing else, it had been a learning experience. With a sigh, Dave walks out of the pseudo-closet, back to Robert and Jacob.

 

Robert and Jacob are somehow wasted. The bar still isn’t serving alcohol, so perhaps they snuck a flask in, although that shouldn’t be enough to get two grown men this drunk.

“Didja have a goo’ time?” Robert asks while they stumble onto the street, all three clinging to one another for balance.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting to take care of you two afterwards,” Dave says irritably. Robert giggles and Jacob pats his back apologetically.

“We ran to the pub on tha’ corner while you were ‘way, drank most of their—” Jacob burps enormously. “O’ whiskey.” Dave groans, but they’re not too far away from the fraternity house, maybe three blocks. He can get them there safely.

 

Except, when they get there, Dave realizes he still doesn’t know the right code for the door.

“It’s, uh,” Robert grumbles. “Uhh, 4-2-0, and then 6-9-6-9. Heh.”

“I hate you,” Dave says. “I actually and genuinely hate you.”

“Awww,” Jacob says. “You guys are so cute.”

“No, really,” Robert says. “That’s the, that’s the passcode. To hack the mainframe.”

“Fucking, fine,” Dave says, and enters the code. The door opens immediately inward and Dave nearly screams with anger because it’s the worst passcode he’s ever heard of. Except, then, Logan steps around the door, obviously having opened it.

“Yay! It’s Logan!” Robert yells.

“What the fuck?” Logan says.

“Um, they’re drunk,” Dave says. Sorry, not really my fault but I wanted to get them back here.” Logan rolls his eyes, but doesn’t actually seem particularly surprised.

“Here, I’ll help you get them up the stairs, you get Robert, he’s not twice as big as you, at least.”

Together, they haul the two up the stairs and into Robert’s room. They immediately cuddle up to one another on their bed, snoring in tandem. Dave sighs, unable to stop the little ping of jealousy at how comfortable they are together.

“What?” Logan asks, grumpy as usual, from his position filling the doorway. Dave wonders if he should feel threatened by his presence, by the way he’s technically blocking him into the bedroom.

“Nothing,” Dave lies, but Logan raises a single dark eyebrow. He’s wearing his pajamas: a long sleeved t-shirt that clings to his shoulders and pajama pants with the mascot of some sports team on them. Both articles of clothing are well worn to the point of having holes in a few places. He is, once again, unshaven. Dave steps closer to him, thinking about what to say, and is startled to realize that Dave stands at least a head taller than him. Even without that height advantage and with the unattractive outfit, Logan exudes an air of power and authority that even most dominants fail to achieve. It is, if Logan is being honest, alluring to be around a dominant with such an effortless presence. Alluring enough that his cock, formerly exhausted from his previous encounter, stirs curiously.

“Really,” Dave says. “It’s nothing.” And he goes to push past Logan and go home to his dorm where he can sleep these stupid feelings away.

Dave is immediately halted by a palm planted squarely against his chest, shoving him back into the room.

“What the fuck?” Dave says, vaguely outraged by how callous Logan is. “I want to go home.”

“I know, I just—” Logan’s brow furrows. “If you go out alone, looking like, like yourself in the middle of the night in the city. Well, there are certain people who would take advantage, alright?”

“I’m aware, Logan,” Dave says. A part of him feels like he ought to challenge Logan, to make Logan prove his power as a dominant. Another part of him just wants to sleep.

“Then you’ll have no problem staying the night. There’s a couch in my room you can sleep on.”

“And what if I say no?” Dave asks, once again taking a step forward. He wonders if he can actually feel the heat coming off of Logan’s body, or if it’s just his overactive imagination. He wonders if being an asshole is supposed to feel this good

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to tie you to my couch,” Logan snaps. “Am I going to have to do that, or are you going to be a good— are you going to be good?” He’s fuming, like he’s about to backhand him for being so disrespectful, and this feels… this feels good. Like Dave’s won, by drawing out this irritation in Logan. It’s strangely satisfying, like Dave needed to make Logan this angry in order to allow himself to obey him.

“No, you don’t have to do that,” Dave snaps. “I’ll be good.” And he snaps his mouth shut before the _sir_ can roll off his tongue. Logan relaxes slightly, but Dave can still see how tense he is. He must’ve had a stressful night. Dave momentarily feels regret for antagonizing him, but then Logan turns on his heel and Dave follows behind him.

Logan’s room is, not surprisingly, a mess, but the couch is clear of obstacles so Dave immediately strips out of his jeans and shirt, leaving him in an undershirt and boxers. Logan, suddenly at the other end of the room and looking at something in the corner, throws him a blanket which Dave spreads over himself gratefully when he lays down. Logan turns the lights off, sets an alarm and then slips into his bed.

“Good night, Logan,” Dave says, and then adds: “sorry for being a hassle.”

A long moment passes, and Dave wonders if Logan fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillows. Dave’s eyes begin to drift close.

“You’re not a hassle, Dave,” Logan murmurs. “Just reckless. Good night.”

And Dave falls asleep on the couch, dreams full of low voices and demanding hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this one was fun to write. Mostly because I wrote this while actively avoiding working on my final projects, but that's neither here nor there.  
> I'm also currently working on an ABO story, so I might be putting that up sometime soon. It's gonna be a longer one, though, so I want to get a little further before I commit to it.  
> Don't forget, if you like it, drop some kudos, or leave a comment! I love to hear from my readers.


	4. Exhibition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Why are they acting like they’re about to fight each other?_ Dave wonders, and tries to catch Robert’s eye.
> 
>  _Dominants_ , Robert mouths at him, and then rolls his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Obviously, it's been awhile. I was reaching the 20th page on this when I realized that was probably too long for a single chapter. So, I cut this chapter in two! I'm probably going to be keeping the chapters this short from now on, just so I can try to put them out more regularly.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Wait, Dave is—”

“Yeah, didn’t you hear? He was taking suppressants and everything.”

“I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play stupid, you know exactly what I mean, he’s just…”

“What, submissive?”

“Aw, shut up man, you would hit that too, if you could.”

“ _If_? Don’t challenge me, man, you know I’ll—”

Dave feels the hair on his neck standing up and a flush rise on his cheeks while the two dominants to his right, Mike and Chris, blatantly discuss him.

“Our chapter meeting will now begin!” Logan says from the front of the room, loud enough that everyone shuts up immediately. Not even a whisper to finish a sentence. Logan is the kind of dominant that can, well, dominate any group of people.

From where Dave’s sitting, Logan is about 30 feet away, facing all of them from the haphazardly constructed podium set up at the front of the room, which is a poached classroom, since none of the rooms in the fraternity house can hold the entire brotherhood. The officers sit next to him at a small table with their laptops, prepared to take notes or present to the rest of the brotherhood. The rest of the brothers, Dave included, sit in rows of tables. Dave, as a freshman, is supposed to sit at the back of the room. However, even sitting in the last row, Dave has juniors and seniors on either side of him: Dave suspects it’s because they want to be on their phones and they get caught too easily at the front.

The fraternity chapter meeting begins with a report from all of the officers. Robert, the treasurer, reports on finances and scolds one of the other executive board members for being overly vague in his budget: apparently, “stuff for events” means alcohol, which is also a no-no for budgets.

Chapter meetings are always longer than Dave thinks entirely necessary, and he has a feeling that this one will be just the same: the agenda is longer than usual, and there are several controversial points on it, mostly involving alcohol. It seems that there are some brothers who are making up excuses so they won’t have to sober at parties, to the point that they never sobered, while Dave, a freshman, has sobered at nearly half of the socials he’s gone to.

Nearly two weeks have passed since Dave had, essentially, come out. Normally, chapter meetings happen every Tuesday night. But, because of the interference of Spring break and a snow day, this is the first time that Dave is sitting with chapter since, well, everything. And he’s not sure if he’s enjoying the reaction from the crowd. The initial reactions were surprise, but as time passes Dave can easily see them turning to consideration and leering. Dave knows that Robert will defend him, but it still stings that his identity as a submissive alters others view of him. Not to mention, some dominants seem to have some sort of fetish for submissive that conceal themselves. Dave met a dominant just like that a few days ago, that half insisted Dave was denying his identity by being the one to initiate sex. Dave had left him a moment later, mouth open and cock probably only growing harder.

In the past few days, Dave has been keeping a low profile. Nearly all of Spring break had been a revelry in his newfound identity and freedom to explore it. And now, he’s starting to get a handle on what he likes. One thing that Dave is saving, however, is his first experience of sex: going “all the way,” as Robert had called it. Some part of him insists that he hold onto that last bit for a little while, just to savor it when he finds the right person to do it with. Another part insists that this is only because of his conservative upbringing, and that he’s missing out. At this point, Dave thinks that both parts of him are right, but while the last couple of encounters have come close, he always insists that he perform oral, or that he would rather rut, something of that sort.

“We will be having sessions with potential pledges at the house, to gauge interest, so if you’d like to come out, then-“

Of course, now that Dave has been doing some exploring, he’s starting to think about what his preferences might be- Robert keeps trying to insist he call them kinks or fetishes, but once again his upbringing triumphs and he finds himself deferring to the more conservative and formal term. Of his encounters so far, they had been nearly vanilla except for the power dynamic: no ropes, no degradation, no knives, and certainly no water sports. Dave isn’t sure exactly what he wants from a partner yet, but Robert- a self proclaimed rope bunny- wants him to try out bondage soon. Dave thinks that Robert just wants to go to bondage night at his favorite club and needs an excuse so that Logan will stop judging him.

“Dave, are you abstaining from the vote?” Logan’s voice calls from the front of the room, and Dave immediately flushes red when he realizes he’s lost track of the meeting.

“Sorry, the vote?”

“Yes, Dave, the vote. On whether or not the picnic should have an open bar,” Logan says, and the dry, humorless tone of his voice makes Dave want to shrink into his skin.

“Right, I’d like to vote for it, s- Logan,” Dave stutters, and raises his hand with everyone else. The scribes write down the vote and Logan turns to Robert to discuss what part of the budget the funds for an open bar will come from.

“Did you almost say sir? It sure sounded like it,” Chris, the dominant sitting two seats down from him, says. “You better be grateful he’s not your dominant, he’d be punishing you later for that.” Once again, Dave flushes red, but this time with anger as well as embarrassment. Chris chuckles, but Dave ignores him and continues to focus on Logan.

“Hell, forget waiting,” Mike says, sitting directly next to Dave. “I’d put him over my knee right here, in front of everyone, so they all know that you’re just a bitch who deserves every spank I give you-“

Dave stands up, slamming his fist down on the table in front of him with a resounding _bang_ that turns every brother’s head toward him.

“Dave?” Robert asks from where he’s sitting.

“Yeah, what’s the problem, Dave?” Mike asks, lips pursed and eyebrows raised in a mockery of concern.

“Sorry,” Dave mutters, sitting down and trying his best not to disrupt chapter. “I was just killing a bug.”

“Right,” Logan says, not believing it. “Anyways, what’s next on the agenda?”

“Ummm…” one of the scribes flips through his papers. “That would be the new sobering policy.”

The chapter groans collectively: this will probably take awhile.

“Recently, an issue has been brought to my attention by the risk management committee,” Logan starts. “Apparently, there are some brothers, some _older_ brothers, who believe that they’re too good to sober. This has created issues in the past, because of the limited potential sobers for events. At our last social, brother Williams,” Logan gestures to a brother at the front of the room with a cast on his leg. “Brother Williams left the party after searching for a sober to walk him home, and was unable to find one. Then, while he was walking home, he crossed the road and was hit by a car.”

Some of the brothers _whoop_ and clap for Williams. Logan’s face turns sour immediately.

“Be quiet!” he snaps, and they silence themselves immediately. “This is not a laughing fucking matter. He could have been killed, and we would all have been to blame.”

From next to Dave, Mike chuckles nervously.

“Something funny?” Logan asks, glaring at Mike.

“Not at all,” Mike mutters.

“Great,” Logan says. “The proposal I discussed with the officers earlier will be set in place following this meeting. The proposal is…” Logan turns to the officers, and one of them helpfully hands him a laptop, presumably with some notes on it.

“Right, here we go. We’ll be creating a spreadsheet of every brother eligible to be a sober, and then if, over time, it is shown that he is not putting in his portion of work, we will be limiting their social allowances. AKA, if you refuse to sober, you will not be allowed to come to socials, parties, or other events at mine and the risk management committee’s discretion,” Logan stops to take a breath. “Any questions or concerns?”

“Yeah, I got one,” Mike says, leaning forward onto the table.

“Great,” Logan says, stepping in front of the podium, arms crossed. “I’d love to hear it.”

 _Why are they acting like they’re about to fight each other?_ Dave wonders, and tries to catch Robert’s eye.

 _Dominants_ , Robert mouths at him, and then rolls his eyes.

“You just said something about brothers who are eligible, correct?”

“Correct,” Logan says.

“Which implies that there are some brothers who aren’t eligible, correct?”

“If you’re asking if you’re eligible to be a sober, you are. In fact, you really should be on the top of the list I think, shouldn’t you,” Logan asks. “I don’t know that I remember you ever sobering, or even attempting to be responsible at a party before.”

Mike flushes a bright red, sitting up in his chair now. Dave smiles, knowing that Mike didn’t expect to be attacked in front of the brotherhood like this, even if he’s doing the same thing to Logan right now.

“What the fuck are you smiling at, Dave?” Chris snaps, from next to Mike.

“Nothing, I—”

“Okay, let’s get an example,” Mike says. He points at Dave. “Is Dave eligible to be a sober?”

Logan is nearly flustered, and Dave isn’t sure why. But the dominant regains his composure almost immediately.

“Well, it just so happens that I personally took Dave off of the eligible list for the next six months, given that he’s sobered at least eight events now.”

“I knew it,” Mike hisses. “You’re getting soft, aren’t you?”

The room turns sour, and Dave suddenly notices that a few brothers, dominants all of them, have assumed more aggressive sitting positions.

“Excuse me?” Logan says. “What, exactly, do you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” Mike says, standing up now to match Logan’s more active stance. “Nothing but what everyone else is thinking.”

“I’m not a mind reader, Mike,” Logan says, his voice dropping into something close to a growl.

“I always knew this would happen, some pretty piece of ass would wag in your face and you’d turn into a sap, and make the upperclassmen do what the freshman should be doing.”

“Unless you know something I don’t, I don’t have a submissive,” Logan snaps. Is that relief that Dave feels?

“We’re not stupid!” Mike yells. “Some prissy vanilla joins the fraternity, spends the night with you, and all of a sudden he’s submissive and you want upperclassmen to be equal with new blood?”

_What?_

“Mike—” Dave starts.

“Dave is _not_ my submissive,” Logan says firmly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mike mocks. “Does he prefer to be called your bitch?”

“Mike!” Robert says, startled. Dave stands up, turning to Mike.

“Look, this is all just a misunderstanding, it’s not—” he goes to put his hand on Mike’s shoulder, but he jerks away, glaring at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Dave sees Logan start to walk towards them.

“Don’t even try it, pillow princess,” Mike snaps, turning back to look at Logan. “You really gonna let your bitch speak to me like this, Logan? If you don’t plan on it, I might just have to put him over my knee and—”

Dave has never been in a fight before, not really. Just some wrestling with his siblings, and if his dad ever got too rough, maybe defending his face. So, when he reaches for Mike he doesn’t really have a plan, other than to smack the nonsense out of him.

He grabs Mike by the collar of his shirt and slams him, face first, into the edge of the table with a _crack_.

The room erupts with noise, with Chris jumping back like he thinks Dave is going to go after him and Logan continuing to make his way back. But Dave doesn’t move much, really. He shifts his hand from Mike’s collar to his head, pressing it down to the table and leaning in close enough that only he can hear what he says:

“The day you try and _punish_ me, Mike, is the day I separate that miserable toothpick you call a dick from your body.”

Dave starts to lean back, but arms close around him and yank him away from Mike: it’s Logan, putting himself in between Mike and Dave.

“Fuck!” Mike hisses, slowly sitting back up and pressing a hand against his bleeding nose.

“Dave, are you okay?” Logan asks, and Dave does a mental inventory.

He’s breathing hard, his hands are shaking, he’s beginning to sweat a little, and his cock is stiff.

“I’m fine,” Dave lies, turns on his heel, and leaves the room.

 

The thing is, Dave knows that there will be consequences. He attacked a brother in front of dozens of people for insulting him. But for right now, Dave is safe in his room. He turned his phone off the second he left chapter and walked straight to his dorm room. What the fuck is wrong with him? First he’s a submissive, now he likes causing others pain? That doesn’t match up.

By some stroke of luck, Dave’s roommate, Johnathon, isn’t home, despite his usual homebody tendencies, so Dave paces the room. Submissives aren’t like this, submissives don’t _revel_ in sadism, let alone get turned on by it. Do they?

Dave isn’t sure, not really. But one thing he’s sure of is that he’s hard, and leaking, and he can barely stand it. Huffing to himself, he jumps onto his bed, slipping off his jeans and shirt so he’s just in his briefs, the cool air helping a little. Before he can forget to, he turns his phone back on but sets it to “do not disturb” mode.

He imagines the moment, focusing on what made him feel so _good_.

 _He grabs Mike by the collar of his shirt and slams him, face first, into the edge of the table with a crack_.

Was it smashing the ignorant dominant’s face into the table? That feeling of violence, of hurting him?

Dave slides a hand down his body, teasing his fingers at the edge of his underwear, dipping them in just under the band.

No, that wasn’t it. What was it?

_“The day you try and punish me, Mike, is the day I separate that miserable toothpick you call a dick from your body.”_

Was it the feeling of humiliating a man who thought himself superior in front of everyone else? The degradation of being forced into the very position he hated?

His one hand dips down to grasp himself, roughly squeezing the base. He groans at the pressure, and his other hand reaches to his chest to pull at a nipple.

No, it wasn’t that either. What had gotten him so hot and bothered?

_Dave starts to lean back, but arms close around him and yank him away from Mike: it’s Logan, putting himself in between—_

“Fuck—” he gasps, his dick jerking suddenly under his fingers and dripping precum now. Urgently, he shoves his briefs down, wrapping a hand around himself now and beginning to jerk himself roughly. He doesn’t want to tease himself now, he wants to push, push, push as fast as he can.

No, it wasn’t the fact that he had hurt Mike, or that he humiliated him, it was that he _fought back._

He rubs the palm of his hand over the head of his cock, hips jerking as the sensitive nerves spark under his own ministrations.

Mike thought he was a strong enough dominant to take Dave, whether he wanted to or not. But Dave _fought back_ and _he_ won. Mike isn’t worthy of him, and never will be. He wasn’t strong enough to dominate Dave, strong enough to _force_ him if he’d wanted to.

Like those dominants on the subway.

Dave bites his lip, and slips the hand at his chest down, down, further than the other one, reaching back to press at his entrance. And even that pressure, light as it is, makes him shiver.

He rolls over for a moment, reaching under his bed for his drawers. He manages to push the top one open, and then grasps the clear tube Robert provided for him. He pops the cap and smears some over his fingers, resuming his former position, his slick hand reaching once more for his hole.

This time, with his fingers wet, that light pressure lets the tip of his finger slip inside. He’s hot and tight and soft all at the same time, and the ring of muscle just inside the rim seems to grip at him.

Those dominants could have done anything to him, anything at all. And he wouldn’t have had any say in it. They could have taken him, one by one, on the subway. It wouldn’t matter if he fought back, because they were stronger than him, strong enough to dominate him, body and mind. Mike isn’t like that.

Dave tries to slip a second finger in, to push deeper, but the angle is off. He grunts in frustration, and uses the hand on his cock to grab himself behind the knee on one leg. He pulls that leg back, opening himself.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, pushing a second finger in, gritting his teeth at the stretch. He’s at the second knuckle, and he hooks them back, trying to find the spot that dominant in the club had teased, the one that made him sweat just thinking about it.

Dave hadn’t been able to fight back on the subway, though. Didn’t even get the chance. They had simply had their way with him, his delirious state of mind lending to their intentions. What if he had fought back, though? Would he have been able to stop them? Or would they have overpowered him still?

He hikes his leg up a little higher and yelps when he stretches himself just a bit too far, but the pain is far from unpleasant. In fact, the moment he can he pulls his leg up even higher, delighting in the sharp _sting_ , letting go of his thigh so that he can bite down on his hand, scared he’s making too much noise.

“Guh!” He grunts, his hand moving faster between his legs now, because he’s found that spot that makes him _jolt_ with pleasure. He presses it now, urgently chasing his release.

Who would be able to overpower him? Who would be able to go toe to toe with him and win, proving their dominance to him?

Unwillingly, he imagines strong hands grabbing him everywhere: his wrists, pushing them above his head, his thighs held apart, his hips grasped so firmly that there would be bruises. He stops biting his hand so that he can pull his thigh back again, no longer caring about the noise.

“Yes, yes, take me—“ with a sound close to a sob, he comes, great waves of pleasure wracking his body and making him tremble.

It takes him a few moments to come down, to evaluate himself. He needs to find a tissue and clean himself up, but he’s entirely out of breath. This is the first time he’s masturbated in….

Dave frowns, trying to remember the last time. He rarely did it when he was on the pill, rarely felt the need to, so it must have been months ago, maybe before he even came to college. Either way, he supposes it’s a good thing that he’s started again: just like Tanaka said, he had been depriving himself of pleasure out of shame for his role. Well, at least he could make up for lost time, now.

He licks his lips, and he’s surprised to taste blood. Had he really bitten himself that hard? He checks his hand, finding a set of gouged imprints. Most of them are just imprints, but a few of them are red, oozing a little. He has bandaids somewhere in his closet, doesn’t he?

With a sigh, Dave hops out of bed. He needs to clean himself up, finish his homework, and then—

_Brrring!_

His phone buzzes from across the room, and Dave darts to where he left it on his desk. It’s Robert, of course. Dave thinks about letting the call go to voicemail: he knows that Robert is going to yell at him for attacking Mike, knows that his big will be disappointed. And he really doesn’t want to deal with that right now, not in his afterglow. But he’s a good little, so he answers the call and puts it on speaker while he searches for his tissues and his underwear.

 _”Dave, are you okay? Where did you run off to?”_ His big asks, sounding surprisingly concerned.

“I’m just back at my dorm, and I’m fine. You don’t need to worry,” Dave reassures.

 _”Don’t need to worry? Dave, let me just refresh your memory: you were insulted in front of the entire fraternity about something you, until recently, were not particularly proud of, assaulted someone, and then turned tail and left. Why the_ Hell _wouldn’t I be concerned?”_

“Because I’m fine, Robert, just—“ Dave hesitates. “Okay, when you put it like that, it does seem kind of… weird. For me to be okay, I mean.”

 _”No shit,”_ Robert grumbles. “We were all a little freaked out when you just left like that.”

“All of you?” Dave asks. “I don’t know that I believe that.” Mike was probably glad he was gone, and Logan will be angry that he interrupted chapter. “The other brothers probably think I’m just being emotional for no reason.”

 _”You know, you can really be an idiot, sometimes,”_ Robert says. _”After all that, there’s a damn good chance that Mike will get expelled from the fraternity, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Chris follows him. Saying shit like that doesn’t fly, especially when it’s that blatant. I thought Logan was gonna tackle Mike, but you got there first.”_

“Really?” Dave says. “No one is angry? Am I even in trouble?”

 _”Well, there is that,”_ Robert admits. _“Attacking a brother, even if the brother definitely deserved it, is against the rules. So there’s going to be a hearing to decide what your punishment is. It probably won’t be anything too bad, maybe a fine or something.”_

“A fine?” Dave asks, panicked. “Robert, you know I’m here entirely on scholarship money and every single dollar I make working goes into necessities, right?”

_”Shit, yeah, I know that. But the judicial committee might not. I’ll put a word in, see what they can do. Worst comes to worst, I can let you borrow some and you can pay it back to me at some point, okay?”_

“Okay,” Dave says. “But I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

 _”Me too,”_ Robert says.

They’re silent for a moment, and Dave takes the opportunity to put on some pants and wipe his stomach clean before he thinks of something else to ask:

“How angry is Logan?”

 _”You know, I’m not really sure why you think he’s angry at you all the time,”_ Robert says. _”I don’t think he likes anyone, per say, but he definitely doesn’t dislike you. He was even talking to me afterwards, asking if I thought you would be okay.”_

“Really? Did he say anything else?” Dave asks, trying to sound neutral, because neutral is exactly how he feels about Logan. No emotional attachments, of course.

_”Uh, yeah, he said you should probably learn how to throw a punch if you’re gonna be bothered by so many dominants. Or something like that. You know, normal dominance posturing shit.”_

“Well, he’s probably right,” Dave says. “I’m just a beacon for trouble.”

_“Oh, be quiet, you’ve been treated decently by plenty of dominants.”_

“Not that Logan knows about that,” Dave says.

Robert is suspiciously quiet.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Dave asks. “I hate it when you’re quiet, because it usually means you know something I don’t know.”

_”Well, it just so happens that Logan might know about your naughty little escapades…”_

“What? Why?” Dave demands. “Do you talk to him about my romantic life?”

_”Well, I’m not sure I would call it a romantic life, per say. More of a carnal life—“_

“Robert!”

 _”Yeah, okay, so maybe a couple days ago I went to a bar with Logan, got really drunk, and told him about everything you’ve been doing recently. Can you really fault me for that?”_ Robert asks.

“Yes, Robert, I can!” Dave says, exasperated. “That’s my personal life!”

 _”I know, I know, but when I get drunk I like to talk about my friends and what I like about them and I’ve just been so proud of you lately…”_ Robert mumbles. _”You’ve come a long way, and I wanted to brag a little.”_

Dave sighs, but stays quiet.

 _”Dave, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, and I should have told you I did,”_ Robert says. _”It’s your personal life, and your experiences are not mine to share with other people.”_

“It’s fine, Robert,” Dave says. “I forgive you. Just don’t do that again, please? Especially not with Logan.”

_”Why, scared you’re gonna scare him off?”_

“Scared he’s gonna lose what little respect he does have for me, actually,” Dave admits. “And yes, I do know that it’s a ridiculous notion, but I can’t help feeling like he’ll judge me.”

 _”Well, he’s heard a lot worse from a lot of different people. I’m sure it doesn’t phase him,”_ Robert says. _”Anyways, I’m gonna let you go so you can study or whatever it is you good students do with your free time.”_

“Bye, Robert,” Dave says, and hangs up.

Dave really doesn’t actually need to study, though. He has no exams this week and no homework due tomorrow that he hasn’t already done. So he could just go to bed at this point: it’s late enough to be an option now.

Instead, Dave pulls out the little tablet he uses as a laptop in college: laptops were too expensive, and, given his current major status as undecided, his classes didn’t require anything more powerful than that.

Pulling up his search engine, Dave bites his lip and opens a private window. What should he look up? ‘Help, I just discovered my own sexuality and think about people who sexually assaulted me when I masturbate’? He sighs, and types in:

_Submissive force fantasy_

Immediately, he’s bombarded with lewd imagery: a seemingly endless stream of pornos, featuring crying, beaten submissives in the thumbnail picture. He types something else in:

_Submissive role rejection rape fantasy_

There’s still some porn, but there’s a few blog posts and editorials from some role-focused magazine. He opens one of the blog posts.

The author, a versatile, begins by detailing a fantasy centered entirely around her own degradation and complete submissiveness to her dominants. It also involves, in Dave’s opinion, an inordinate amount of lip biting. This is not what he’s looking for.

The next few posts are more of the same, but the last one he clicks, one of the editorials, seems more at his speed.

The article, entitled: Chains, Whips, and Sexual Assault: Should They All Excite Me?, is a response to a letter to the paper, which claims that any sexual contact which involved immobilizing a submissive is, inherently, fetishizing sexual assault.

The magazine’s response is detailed and thorough, with quite a few sources. The gist of it, however, is that given that “play sessions” (which Dave assumed meant sexual contact) always involved safewords, if they are safe, sane, and consensual. Meaning, of course, that the person tied up could always call their safe word and end all sexual contact at any point in time.

After explaining this, the response continued to explain that sexual assault fantasies are, in fact, fairly common, and nothing to be ashamed of, given that they can be enacted in a safe environment. Bondage inherently plays on the idea of taking complete control over somewhere else, which was why bondage and sexual assault fantasies so commonly overlapped.

Dave sits back and thinks. While bondage, in the chains, ropes, and gags sense doesn’t particularly excite him, the idea of being restrained and held against his will, simply waiting for his partner to enact whatever they wanted upon him, certainly excites him.

He texts Robert quickly before going to brush his teeth:

_What was the name of that BDSM club, again?_

While he’s winding down to go to bed, Dave wraps up his hand. The little punctures aren’t particularly deep, so he probably won’t even bother with a bandage tomorrow.

When he gets back to his room, Robert has sent him a few, enthusiastic, responses:

_Tommyknocker’s was the one I was thinking would be good for your first time._

_Why, have you finally decided to branch out???_

_My little is growing up :’)_

Dave chuckles to himself. It seems that whenever Dave mentions clubs of any kind, Robert is immediately excited and more than willing to cancel prior plans to go with him.

_Relax, I’m still considering it. We can talk about it tomorrow or smth._

With that done, Dave finishes getting ready for bed and sets his alarm. Even with all of the excitement going on, Dave is still a college student with classes to get to and exams to ace, and that means getting a good night's sleep. With a sigh, he falls asleep almost immediately after his head hits the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, because it doesn't get addressed in this chapter: rape is not good! Obviously! But Dave doesn't really have a great understanding of his sexuality at this point. The topic will be addressed in the next chapter or so.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	5. Safeword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why are you happy I hit him? So you didn’t have to get in trouble for it?”
> 
> Dave sucks in a breath immediately, wishing he could suck the words back in with it. That was too direct, too soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I decided to spoil you guys and give you two chapters in two days. Hope you enjoy!

Dave is in class the next day when his roommate calls him. By some miracle, his professor doesn’t care and just tells him to take it in the hallway. Dave isn’t particularly surprised: his professor doesn’t seem to care about much. She’s teaching an English course at 5 PM, and yet Dave still seems to be one of only two or three students who remains awake and engaged. Maybe that’s why she lets him take the call.

“What’s up John?” he asks once he’s in the hallway. “I’m in class, so I can’t talk for long.”

 _”Uh, right. I forgot you had class today,”_ John says. _”There’s a brother here from your fraternity, says he knows you and wants to hang out. But I’m heading out, so...”_

Dave sighs. It’s probably Robert, given that he’s been able to infiltrate Dave’s dorm building before, despite the keycard entrance and security guard.

“Just tell Robert to wait, my class ends in 20 minutes and then I’ll be back,” Dave says.

_”Um, I don’t think he—”_

“He can wait, don’t worry about it. Just let him in the room and tell him to stay away from my chocolate.”

_”Uh—”_

Dave hangs up on him and only feels a little bad about it. He needs to get back to class so he can get in his participation for the day. Before he does, though, he shoots a text to Robert.

_You know, if you want to hang out you can always text me. You don’t have to show up at my room!_

Just as Dave sits in class, his phone buzzes. He checks it discreetly and frowns.

_What are you talking about? I’m on a date with Jacob right now._

So who’s in his room?

 

Dave hesitates at his door, key in hand. Whoever it is that’s in there probably is a brother. Which might make it seem like the situation isn’t a problem, except that there are certain brothers that Dave doesn’t want to be alone in a room with. Chris and Mike, for example.

So he hesitates for a moment, trying to figure out what he’ll do when he opens the door. Should he keep it open? Should he go get help? Should he just leave?

_”Shit!”_

A muffled voice breaches the door. Dave can tell it’s not Mike or Chris, but it still seems achingly familiar, if he could just remember…

_Bang!_

Something falls down in his room, and Dave finds he can’t make himself stay in the hall anymore: he’s just too curious now.

So, he opens the door and is granted a view of an interesting scene: Logan, bag of chocolates in hand, is attempting to put the chocolates back on top of his wardrobe. From Dave’s quick survey of his room, it becomes obvious that Logan knocked a few other things, namely his stack of towels, off of the top of his wardrobe.

“Uh, hi,” he says. Logan stares at him, _almost_ looking guilty.

“Sorry, I was…”

“Rearranging my room, I see? And eating my chocolates?” Dave snorts, and Logan huffs.

“I just grabbed one or two, get off my back,” he mutters, finally getting the chocolates back into place and bending down to gather the towels. Dave steps into the room and closes the door.

It feels weird to have Logan in his room, like an invasion of his life. Before this, the only brother to see him outside of the fraternity house and events was Robert. And, a few brothers he waved to in between classes. Those two parts of his life were separate entities.

Suffice to say, seeing Logan in his room just feels kind of weird.

Logan puts his towels back and turns to him. Once again, he’s dressed like he doesn’t really give a shit: a tank top with a jacket on top, gym shorts, and sneakers from a brand that Dave is pretty sure he’s only seen dads wear before. He’s actually shaved for once, and Dave is forced to admit that Logan looks _young_. Like an actual college student. It’s an odd realization that makes him feel like he’s seen too much, so he focuses on setting his backpack down and pulling his books out.

“So,” he says. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

“I wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” Logan says.

Right. Yesterday.

“Obviously I can’t tell you that I’m happy you attacked a brother or anything, but, off the record—” Logan steps in close, hand twitching up like he thinks of putting it on Dave’s shoulder and then changes his mind. “He deserved what he got. And I’m happy you’re the one that dished it out.”

Dave straightens up from his backpack, looking Logan in the eye. To both of their credit, neither one flinches away or breaks their connected gaze for a few seconds. Then, Dave looks away.

“Why are you happy I hit him? So you didn’t have to get in trouble for it?”

Dave sucks in a breath immediately, wishing he could suck the words back in with it. That was too direct, too soon.

“I— what?” Logan seems actually confused.

“Don’t pay attention to me, I’m just—” Dave hesitates. “I’m just bitter that I’m going to get punished for defending myself, y’know?”

“I do know,” Logan says. “Which is why I put in a word to the judicial committee on your behalf. Robert did, too, by the way. You won’t be getting fined.”

“But I will still be receiving some form of punishment, right?” Dave asks. “I _did_ assault a brother, in case you forgot.”

“I didn’t forget,” Logan chuckles. “But you won’t be getting fined, that’s for sure. If they take my suggestion, which they probably will, for once, you’ll be getting mandatory community service hours.”

“Oh,” Dave says. “That’s not so bad.” Logan smiles and Dave notices that he has a dimple on his left but not on his right.

“Hey, it pays to have friends in high places,” Logan smirks.

Friends, huh? A week or so ago and Dave would’ve laughed at that. Now, he just raises an eyebrow and puts his books away on his desk.

“So, you came all the way here to tell me that?” Dave asks. “You know you could get my number from Robert, right?”

“I like saying this sort of stuff in person.”

“This sort of stuff?” Dave finishes putting his books back on his desk and pulls out his notebooks for his 9AM lecture tomorrow. Ugh, Math 101.

“Yeah, important stuff. And besides, that wasn’t the only reason I came,” Logan says. “You have gym clothes, right?”

Dave stops what he’s doing and thinks for a moment. He does, but they’re a couple years old and the shorts might be… shorter than they need to be. He nods at Logan anyways.

“Great,” Logan says. “Get changed, we’re going to the house.”

 

“No, no! Stop tucking your thumb in!” Logan cries out, but it’s too late and Dave hits the punching bag, hard. His thumb seems to _pinch_ in and he hisses, yanking back. Logan groans and covers his eyes. “This really doesn’t come naturally to you, does it?”

Dave sighs. They’ve only been doing this for a half hour or so, but it’s becoming more and more obvious that Dave has the boxing skill of a goldfish: he just doesn’t get it. Every time he tries to copy Logan he gets sucked into his head, concentrating perhaps too hard. He tells Logan this, but only gets a raised eyebrow in return.

“Thinking too hard? About punching something?” Logan has been guiding him the entire time. His form is perfect, of course. His lean forearms seem to dart out at lightning speed, the muscular bicep and tricep following close behind to hit the punching bag with a satisfying _pop_! Dave is glad that they’re alone, here, in the basement of the fraternity house. Their only company is the stink of alcohol from parties and an empty keg. Here, no one can judge Dave for being absolutely helpless when it comes to defending himself.

Except for Logan, of course.

“Yeah, it’s just… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel natural,” Dave says. “When I’m in the moment, I’m not going to be thinking about whether or not my hand is positioned the right way, I’ll just be trying to get away or knock someone out.”

When they got here and Logan finally told him what the Hell they were doing, Dave was excited: he’d always thought that taking a self defense class was a good idea. And he didn’t even have to pay for this one! But, maybe it was going to be a waste of time. Or, at least, a waste of Dave’s time. Logan at least got a little amusement out of the whole affair.

“What if we could simulate being in the moment?” Logan asks. Dave cocks his head.

“I don’t know if that sounds like a good idea, Logan,” he says. “I’m scared I might… get confused.” Which isn’t true, exactly. But he’s scared to dwell, scared to get too close to that moment on the subway. When he looks at Logan, his eyes are soft. And then he opens his mouth:

“What’s your word?”

The forwardness of the question startles Dave for a second.

“My what?”

“Your word. Your safeword. Please tell me you know what a safeword is!” Logan pleads, actually looking concerned now.

“Of course I know what a safeword is, just,” Dave throws his hands up, “why do you need it?” Logan has the audacity to sigh in relief.

“Well, if I pretend to attack you and it’s too much, you can call it out, like a scene. And I’ll back off,” Logan says. And it makes sense, Dave supposes. That way he can react realistically and Logan can critique his form, or something.

“It’s scotch,” Dave tells him, and Logan makes a little smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” Logan says. “It’s just very… you.” Dave’s not sure how to respond to that, so he just raises his eyebrows.

“And what’s yours?” Dave asks.

“Not that I think I’ll need it,” Logan says, “but it’s toenail.” Dave wrinkles his nose.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Kind of the point, isn’t it?” Logan retorts, but then laments. “But I can use checkers, if it makes you happy,” he says, and drops closer to a crouch.

Dave mimics the position, spreading his legs a little and bending at the knee and waist. He’s more stable this way, he finds, and he instinctively keeps his hands in front of him, guarding his torso. Of course, his shorts creep up this thighs when he does this and he fights the urge to tug them down again.

“Since I’m larger than you, my main goal is going to be to get you to the ground,” Logan says, his soft growl of a voice startling Dave a little. The dominant shifts, pushing a little closer to Dave, maybe only four or five feet away. Too close. Dave shifts back. “Once I get you on the ground, I can use my weight to keep you there.”

There’s a sudden movement from Logan, and before Dave can react he’s being tackled to the ground. Logan’s arms wrap around his midsection and the back of his head slams against the ground: he’s briefly grateful that Logan set down mats beforehand, and then he begins his struggle. Dave heaves upward, pushing his hands down on the mat, but Logan seems terribly heavy all of a sudden. His back smacks against the mat again.

With little to no effort at all, Logan leans back onto his haunches, seizes Dave by the hips, flips him over, and pushes him flat against the mat once more. This time, he also manages to grabs his wrists, pinioning them against the small of his back. Dave bucks up, thighs trembling with effort, but Logan has straddled them. The dominant leans forward so that he can speak directly into Dave’s ear:

“Easy!” He says, triumphant and arrogant and dominant, wrapped into one little word. And the way he sits on Dave, body pressed against him from hip to neck, isn’t doing wonders for Dave concentration.

“Get off me!” Dave grunts. Logan laughs, but leans back and stands up, quick to put some space in between them. Dave’s back feels cold, but he is also quick to his feet.

“Again,” Logan says, brow furrowed.

This time, Dave does his best to observe every one of Logan’s movements: the twitch of his fingers, the way his thighs tensed with each step. Logan circles him for a moment, watching him in the same way.

Dave pushes off the ground with his thighs, intentionally pushing just hard enough to move a foot or so closer. Logan falls for it, through, once again surging forward to grapple with him. Instead, Dave turns and shoves Logan to the ground, their arms tangling together and bringing both of them down. But Dave needs to move fast: Logan is stunned for the moment, his breath knocked out of him. It won’t last long.

Dave isn’t heavy enough to hold Logan down, so instead he does his best to incapacitate him. Logan thrashes, but Dave gets under his back, wrapping one arm around his throat and fitting the dominant’s neck into the crook of his elbow. He uses his other arm to pin Logan’s arms to his own chest, and then wraps his legs around Logan’s waist from behind. Leaning back, he can tell that Logan won’t be able to stand up from this, so he squeezes his neck and leans in close.

“Still easy?” He asks, panting. Logan grunts in reply, face red, and then taps his arm three times.

“Checkers!” He croaks, and Dave releases him immediately, scared he went too far. Instead, Logan coughs and rubs at his neck before chuckling, a pleasant rumble from deep in his chest.

“Was that good?” Dave asks, unable to help himself.

“It was good, maybe a little too lucky, though,” Logan says, getting back to his feet. Dave copies him.

“Lucky?” Dave cries out. “What part of that was luck? You just don’t want to feel like I beat you.”

“We’ll see about that,” Logan says, lips pulling into a smirk as he turns back to Dave. He’s a little sweaty now, beads of perspiration forming on his brow. Logan bends his knees once more, this time looking a little more predatory. It’s something about the way he narrows his eyes, looks at Dave like he’s his next meal. “Maybe I shouldn’t hold back, give you the real thing? You’re stronger than any submissive I’ve been with.”

Well, that sends a shiver through Dave’s body. But, he manages to stay silent, mimicking Logan’s stance. They circle one another, sneakers making quiet little noises on the mats. Logan is still staring at him, gaze focused and unfaltering. Dave stares back, and their eyes lock: Dave feels like he’s been caught in a net, and he stops in his tracks. Logan’s eyes narrow, and then flick to the side. Dave can’t help himself: he turns his head to see what Logan is looking at, and in that moment Logan lunges.

Dave can’t stop the yelp that bursts out his mouth. Logan’s arms once again encircle his waist, his head pressed into Dave’s stomach as he brings him down to the ground. Dave answers by wrapping his legs around Logan’s torso, clenching his thighs as hard as he can and rolling them over. Dave now sits astride Logan’s chest, the dominant’s hands pressing into his thighs. Without missing a beat, Logan grabs him by the hips and throws him to the side, knocking the air out of him for a second. Dave scrambles to his feet, but once again Logan rushes him and the grapple, both trying to get a secure grip to throw the other down.

Something has changed, though. Logan’s not smirking anymore, his face transformed into a silent snarl. His lips pull back from his teeth, and Dave responds in kind with a grimace of his own. The air around them seems to hang heavy on Dave’s skin, and it stirs something in him. Whatever it is, it seems to focus Dave’s senses to the point of being uncomfortable. He can see the way Logan’s thighs flex each time he tries to throw Dave down, and the way his eyebrows twitch down when he fails.

Logan releases Dave for just a moment, but that is more than enough to unbalance Dave, who stumbles forward, straight into Logan’s iron grip. The dominant grabs him, one hand reaching around his back, the other wrapping around his thigh, and Dave feels weightless for a moment when Logan hoists him into the air. And then, of course, he feels like he weighs as much as an elephant when Logan drops him to the ground.

Logan doesn’t give him a moment to recover, immediately moving to cover him. Dave lashes out and manages to strike him across the face and is startled to see Logan’s skin bloom red and pink in its wake. Logan _snarls_ and grabs Dave’s wrists, hands pressing down until Dave cries out at the feeling of the delicate bones being pushed too far. Logan pushes down until Dave’s wrists are pressed into the floor just above his head, back arching up from the floor to accommodate the stretch. He can’t help but feel small under Logan, with the way the dominant hovers just over him, thighs pressed against his own to spread them. Dave flushes when he realizes the way they’re sitting, Dave on the floor with his arms above his head, thighs spread and a sweaty Logan sitting in between them. Logan presses down a little harder, a shit-eating grin spread across his face.

“Hey, come here of—”

Angrily, Dave pulls one of his thighs back as far as he can, stretching the muscle, before slamming his foot into Logan’s stomach.

“Fuck!” Logan cries out, and falls backward onto his ass. He won’t be startled for long, so Dave springs forward and does his absolute best to pin Logan down, but Dave simply doesn’t weigh enough. Instead, Logan once again manages to grab at Dave’s thighs, this time flipping him onto his stomach. Dave writhes in Logan’s grip, but the dominant manages to press him down, hands once again pinned to his back. This time, though, Logan’s other hand presses into the back of his neck and one of his thighs is pressed between Dave’s, the muscle in it trembling with effort at the crux between his legs.

Dave grunts and struggles once more, testing Logan’s strength, but Logan simply tightens his grip on the back of his neck and Dave can’t help but let his muscles relax at the pressure. He tenses his thighs curiously, to see if he can maybe roll over, but Logan laughs at him.

“Yeah, you’re not getting away this time,” Logan says, the hand at his neck now reaching down to press against Dave’s thigh. His hands are big enough that his fingers clench at the outside, while his thumb presses against the sensitive skin closer to his groin. With a start, Dave realizes that his shorts have ridden up and Logan’s hand, hot and sweaty from effort, presses into the bare skin of his thigh.

“Are you gonna call it out, Dave?” Logan asks, teasing him. “Or do you wanna try this again?” Dave’s word clings to the tip of his tongue. It wouldn’t be hard to say it. _Scotch_. And yet, Dave finds he doesn’t want this moment to end, doesn’t want Logan to take this warm, electric feeling away.

“Am I interrupting something?” Robert’s voice, clear and perhaps a little amused, takes the both of them by surprise. Dave flinches, and can feel Logan’s grip suddenly tightening before releasing him entirely.

Dave’s instinct is to scramble to his feet and deny any allegations, whatever they may be. But he can feel Logan sit back slowly, casually, like this is just a normal occurrence and he’s totally fine with the fact that Robert walked in on them.

But then, Dave remembers that they weren’t doing anything wrong. Just two guys wrestling to learn basic self defense. Nothing more. Right.

_Right?_

Whatever the case, Dave makes sure he doesn’t jump to his feet, brushing himself off and turning to smile at Robert.

His big is on the stairs of the basement, leaning over the banister. He spares Dave a knowing look, before turning to Logan.

“The judicial committee just adjourned, if you want to look over the hearings with me,” Robert says. Logan groans and reaches for a towel he left on the floor earlier to wipe the sweat from his face. He tosses it to Dave without looking at him and heads to Robert. Dave wipes his own face with it, noting how Logan’s scent has been pressed into the fibers, before throwing it onto his shoulder and following Logan.

“C’mon, we can all look over them together,” Robert suggests. “It’ll be good for Dave to see how the committee works.”

 

They end up in Logan’s room, Robert sitting at Logan’s desk with his laptop and Logan on his bed with his own. Dave takes a moment to look around the room. It’s cleaner than he remembers, and Logan has put up a poster of some band that Dave doesn’t recognize. If Dave wasn’t mistaken, it had replaced a poster of a bikini model.

It’s not like Dave hasn’t seen Logan’s Instagram: he clearly favors submissives with more traditional builds: skinny, fair, and pretty. Dave has never matched that stereotype, other than being a bit short. He’s too muscular, too ruddy, and much too coarse to be considered pretty. Perhaps the only submissive traits that Dave has are his sexual preferences and the type of amoresterone he produces. He wonders why Logan took down his poster.

Dave hesitates for a moment, not sure if he should look over Robert’s shoulder or sit with Logan.

“Here,” Logan says, patting the space next to him, deciding for him. Dave sits down, gratefully sinking into the mattress. He’s going to be sore tomorrow. While Logan pulls up the documents, Robert gives them a little background.

“Okay, so today we went over the brothers who didn’t pay dues this term, gave them all fines like usual, so that’s done with,” he says, tapping something on his keyboard. “And then we went over our two _fun_ cases, which would be brother Mike Faust and brother Dave Anderson.” Logan nudges him with his shoulder.

“That’s you!”

“I know my own name, thank you,” Dave grumbles, and Logan laughs.

“Sorry, though I might have knocked some sense out of you,” Logan says. Robert clears his throat and they both turn to look at him. He’s frowning, but just barely.

“Can you two at least try to take this seriously?” Robert asks. “Dave is facing judicial charges for _assaulting a brother_ in case you forgot.”

“Right, sorry Robert,” Dave says. If he’s being honest, he kind of forgot about the seriousness of the situation.

“Whatever,” Robert says. “Logan, do you have the docs?”

“Yep, right here,” Logan says, and Dave peers at his screen. He’s got two folders up: one for Mike’s case, and one for Dave’s. They’re both fairly large, with “Evidence” subfolders and audio clips. “Looks like they already settled on Mike’s case, and yours…” He pulls up Dave’s file, quickly scrolling to the bottom. “They already settled on your case, too?”

“What?” Dave asks. “I didn’t get to testify, though.”

“Read through Mike’s case first, then Dave’s,” Roberts says. “It’ll make sense that way.”

Logan leans back and hands his laptop to Dave, with Mike’s file open. Dave opens the main file, scanning through it briefly. It looks like the case was pretty straightforward, with Mike claiming ignorance to Dave and Logan’s non-involvement, and emphasizing the damage Dave had done to his nose. At that point, it looked like Mike was going to get away with minimal charges: a fine and temporary restrictions on social privileges. It was the duty of the judicial committee members to get statements from brothers who witnessed the events, and one of the witnesses was Chris.

“Chris was a witness against Mike?” Dave asks. “Aren’t they friends?”

“Well, Mike had a bad habit of fucking around with Chris’ partners,” Robert says, smiling. “And it looks like Chris finally had enough of it.”

Dave isn’t sure if that’s a situation he enjoys being a part of, but he reads on. Chris testified that Mike was planning on riling Logan and Dave up, specifically to undermine Logan’s credibility with the chapter. The testimony was accompanied by several screenshots which also condemned Mike.

“Damn,” Logan says. “I didn’t know Chris had it in him.”

“Read on!” Robert urges. “It gets better.”

Chris then chose to reveal several other text conversations with lewd comments and pictures involving other brothers to the committee. While they didn’t have much to do with the current case, the committee decided it would be opening up another case in order to determine if Mike would remain in the fraternity.

“So, he might get expelled?” Dave asks.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Roberts says. “The conversations are out of line, both in terms of morals and rules regarding the privacy of brothers. And if he doesn’t get expelled, I wouldn’t be surprised if he decides to leave on his own. He barely had a good reputation to begin with, but now…”

“Now he really crossed the line,” Dave finishes.

“Give me that, I wanna look at your case,” Logan demands, taking his laptop back. He switches to Dave’s folder, turning the screen so that Dave can lean in and watch him browse through it.

Most of the evidence is the same, including Chris’ testimony. The main file, however, is much shorter than Mike’s. Logan scrolls to the bottom.

_Charges dropped._

“Oh,” Dave says.

“Yeah, looks like they decided to do you a favor and spare you punishment you don’t deserve,” Robert says. Logan chuckles and closes his laptop, tossing it behind him.

“Next time, it’ll be different, though,” Logan warns him, but he’s smiling when he ruffles a hand through Dave’s hair.

Dave’s not quite sure how to feel: these past two days have been a rollercoaster of emotions, start to finish. But now, in this moment, he’s got a few good things going for him.

“Thank you, both of you,” Dave says, smiling crookedly. “I’m sure having the both of you put in your two cents helped my case.”

“Anything for my little,” Robert tells him. Logan doesn’t say anything, but he bumps against him and smiles, eyes twinkling, and Dave feels his chest grow warm.

Once again, Dave is struck by how young Logan looks with his face shaved. And how attractive he was. And, of course, how powerful he was when he held Dave down in the basement, how warm his hands were on his skin.

“Anyways,” Dave blurts, “I’ve gotta go—”

“Aw, Dave,” Roberts protests when Dave stands up. “Stick around, we can all hang out and have a drink and—”

“Sorry, Robert,” Dave says. “I’ve got a test tomorrow, and I need to look over the study guide. You know how it is.” Robert raises an eyebrow, clearly annoyed with him and his obvious lie. But Dave _needs_ to go, _needs_ to leave before he lets these stupid fantasies get the better of him. Logan doesn’t want him, doesn’t want a pathetic, broken little submissive like him.

“Alright, we’ll see you around,” Robert finally says.

“Yeah,” Dave manages, “I’ll be around.”

Neither of them stand up, but Logan’s eyes follow him out of the room, burning into his back as he leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment if you liked what you read! They really help to encourage me, and I treasure each and every one :')
> 
> The next chapter is gonna be filthy, so be ready.....


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